Die by Fire
by Hammerin
Summary: a million and one sebastian & mercedes au one-shots
1. breathe

**chapter one. breathe: sebastian's only love comes from his only hate. set during the 60s.**

 _exit music (for a film) - radiohead_

 _breathe keep breathing / don't lose your nerve / breathe keep breathing / i can't do this alone_

* * *

The word 'danger' didn't skim the surface of the cold, condensing beer that Mercedes and Sebastian had poured out the tap, fear wasn't even foam rising to the top. The mere thought of what they'd been doing sent chills down their spines, it was better not to think of it. He, Sebastian, was never sure of what would end the relationship. Surely, they wouldn't get married or grow old together, he knew that. They weren't buddy-buddy screw pals either who shared an apartment, but had girlfriends on the side that alleviated any suspicions. There was no way to try to mask their relationship, there was no way they could be together– really be together. If they were truly desperate, couldn't spend a second apart, maybe he could hire her as a maid when he grew older. Even that would draw unneeded attention, and he knew her pride would take the better hold of her. And Sebastian would eventually have to be married or get married off by the Smythe patriarchs, making for a mess.

So, how would it be? He asked himself. How would the sun in his life be extinguished? By force, he reckoned. He always told her, ' _It's either you or me in the grave, I won't live without you._ ' She'd laugh it off, she thought it was a joke. But Sebastian knew, he knew he couldn't quit her, he couldn't live without her. His breath caught in his lungs when she left or she came, and she always lit a fire in his cool bones that burned at initial contact and lingered. How he loved her– it was her smile, and her voice, a smooth falsetto or quick raspiness that reminded him of when they were younger, of when things were sweeter.

Maybe they'd be found out, maybe someone would walk in on them at the wrong time. That was the beginning of everything, every other possibility. People knowing was no harm for Sebastian, people looking neither. People talking was no inhibition, and laughter was motivation. Mercedes, he could not speak for, he knew things would be tougher for her, but he would be fine with the judgement. Though judgement was never the end of the line, after judgement followed action. He'd heard of white men being with black women before, he was told if you ever saw a dark skinned woman with a light colored baby, it was the white man's doing. That was all fine- sex was all fine. But the possibility of loving someone who most of Lillington County wouldn't even call 'human' or would call sub par, at least, was out of bounds. The possibility that a white man could love a black woman was unheard of. He'd also heard stories of black men with white women, the girls were given a slap on the wrist and sent to live with their grandparents in Mississippi, but the boys… Oh! The boys, killed. Each time, murdered- hung, tortured, burned.

So, what would come of Sebastian and Mercedes? Two specimens who had never been studied. Would Sebastian be killed or slapped on the wrist; what about Mercedes?

Neither knew, that was the scary part. Maybe if they had known the true risks or the way they'd meet their end, they could have really enjoyed their time together, but neither knew what would separate them. A sincere promise of 'I would never let them hurt you,' only removed stress momentarily when fingers trailed over bare skin and kisses were laid upon foreheads, only momentarily.

Mercedes was scared. More scared than Sebastian even, she wasn't the stoic, hero he was (or pretended to be). She was a heroine, in her own right, but not in Lillington County, not a slayer of monsters like Jim Crow. She was a small girl with big dreams, dreams of singing and falling in love, and her dreams had only came true in dark places where songs were sung to wash away tears and falling in love was the most painful part of living. And she was afraid.

Many times did she try to quit, quit loving and quit falling. And as much of a bastard as he was, Sebastian would re-convince her.

"You'll leave me alone in this? You'll leave me to be in love by myself? Mercedes, I can not live without you. – I'm afraid, I'm scared. Have you ever heard me say anything like that? I'm… I'm in love with you, and we can't just end like this… not like this. Not after we've both risked so much to be with each other, we aren't going out like this. I love you, I want to be with you, and I can't just quit because you think we should. I don't care what we think we should do, I care about what we want– what we need to do. And I need to be with you, I need to touch you, and I need to think of you and know that there is the possibility, just the wildest thought even, that you are thinking of me too. I can't live without you, I can't do this without you. I was nothing those years when we weren't together, I was sad, I was lonely, I was empty. I was dying. And I will tell you, I would **die by fire** a million times over to be with you, rather than spend one more day dying inside– you are all I want. Please… Just breathe, we're both nervous. We're both scared, terrified, even. But we need each other, I need you, I love you, I want you. Until we die or forever, whichever comes sooner."


	2. beauty and the beast

**chapter two. beauty and the beast: sebastian and mercedes dance, for old time's sake.**

* * *

Mercedes and Sebastian's mothers sputtered through downed wine and silent laughter, the latter placing on a low blues disk and the former encouraging the youth to slow dance.

'You two used to dance all the time when you were younger,' Ms. Jones confided, drunkenly.

'In fact,' Tierney started, leaning over the disk player. 'You two loved this very song,' she trilled, 'this very song!'

Sebastian looked at Mercedes, slightly amused, but waiting for her reaction. He drifted between keeping his cool and being drawn into the atmosphere of the room, but he managed to remain unwavered until he saw Mercedes's own attachment. Mercedes only blushed and refused to look at Sebastian, refused to face the fact that he may be repulsed by the idea of pressing against her, but Sebastian lingered, praying that she'd remember the movement of his feet in their slow dance.

In a limbo of drunken provocations and miscommunication, Sebastian finally gripped the sofa tightly, and leaned over to whisper into Mercedes's shoulder, 'One dance. For old time's sake.'

Mercedes nodded quickly and gulped down the last sip of a glass of water, 'Just one,' she reminded, holding up one finger, why not?

The mothers clapped intensely when the couple finally rose, and shuffled the two to the center of the room, between the couch and the fireplace. The music seemed to lift, and Tierney swayed further away from her original place to allow the children room, Ms. Jones sipped a tall glass of dark wine, and smiled in satisfaction.

Sebastian stepped between Mercedes's feet slowly, placing his hand in the small of her back; he was too tall to lean his forehead onto hers, but he grasped her hand with his to bring them all the more closer. He ignored her stilted movements and the feeling of his mother's gaze in his back, choosing instead to focus directly on falling into rhythm with Mercedes's slow pacing.

Mercedes hadn't danced formally in years, and she feared that her palm began to sweat in Sebastian's hand, she caught a glimpse of her mother's eye during the first turn. Whilst attempting to relent from Sebastian's tight grasp, Mercedes was pulled back quickly, their eyes finally meeting.

"You haven't danced in a while, have you?" He asked somberly.

Mercedes shook her head, "Haven't had the opportunity."

Sebastian nodded and looked away, "Don't think so deeply about it, just relax. If you can remember what it was like when we were first together,' he chose his words carefully, "remember where my feet will move next."

Sebastian lightened up and resorted back to a less complex maneuver, but soon Mercedes's feet aligned with his, and her head cradled into his chest.

"I don't remember it being like this,' Mercedes whispered, 'And, then, I was in love with you."

Sebastian laughed, "I guess the feeling's passed?"

Mercedes remained silent as the two continued to sway back and forth, Sebastian thought that it could be like this all the time… if only.

Tierney silently gripped for her friend's hand, soft tears swelling in her eyes. She wanted nothing more than happiness for her son, she was even better if it included happiness for herself.

Mercedes felt Sebastian's heart racing in her ear, and she wondered if he could feel her's in his stomach, she only leaned in closer for the hope that he did.

Sebastian confessed, "I miss this."

"Me too."

He didn't know if it was time to express his feelings, he wasn't sure if it would ever be time. He didn't know for sure how he felt, but he knew he felt Mercedes's chest racing just like his, but to say the word… He sighed and cherished the moment. He could tell her that he loved, or so he thought, her another time. For now he could just be in love.

* * *

 _a/n_

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 _chipsnhow_ \- love your reviews btw, thanks for always reading


	3. high school

**chapter three. high school: seven minutes in heaven**

* * *

"Okay, Puck, no matter what you do, make sure that Quinn Fabray ends up in this closet!"

" _Okay, okay,_ ' Puck said nonchalantly, rushing Sebastian into the closed and damp closet, blindfolded. "Have fun," he whispered before shutting the door completely. Somehow at parties someone always ended up suggesting '7 Minutes in Heaven' and today instead of Sebastian forcing someone into the closet, he'd been shoved in there himself. While being blindfolded he was only able to mutter to make sure that Quinn ended up in there, he'd have their heads if she didn't. Several seconds passed with Sebastian in the closet, all sounds from inside completely drowned out. He played out what would happen with Quinn once she got into the closet, deciding that he'd like it better if he could see what was going on. Just as he began to take his blindfold off, the door creaked open, and he turned around so that the boy's hosting the game wouldn't be able to tell that he had taken off his blindfold. Sebastian heard snickers, and turned around just in time to get a glance of who was coming in. It wasn't Quinn Fabray, it was Mercedes Jones.

"Where's Quinn?"

"Outside with Puck." Mercedes piped back, clearly nervous. She wasn't the type of girl who participated in these types of games, and it was even more clear that she hadn't been shoved into that closet on her own doing.

Sebastian backed further into the closet, " _Um_ …"

"Look, I don't want to be in here either. We don't have to do anything, it's not like I was trying to kiss you either." He heard her cross her arms and blow.

"That's not what I meant, I mean— we can kiss too, I don't have a problem with it."

 _a/n_

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 _chipsnhow_ : thank you, that really means a lot. the fandom isn't as popular anymore, and it's awesome for you to recognize not only myself, but this ship as well.

 _mzdoodlesaunt26_ : totally fine. thank you, you are so sweet. i'm glad you can relate to the characters. i take time and rewatch episodes to get down exactly how i think they would react to certain things, and i can say their dynamic is genuine, and i'm glad you see that.

 _alliecattie3_ : thank you _a million times_. that's awesome to hear, i hope you like what i have in store.


	4. beer can

**chapter four. beer can: mercedes and sebastian are two musicians from two very different sides of the musical spectrum**

* * *

Sebastian shrugged, gulping down the rest of the Budweiser and shifting his mouth to one side. He leaned back and forced his weight onto his left arm whilst watching Mercedes timidly peck around the beer in her hand.

"If you didn't want one, you could've told me. You don't have to try and run with the big dogs,' Sebastian said, laughing under his breath.

"I was never a big drinker…" Mercedes replied, smiling shortly, and moving the can between her hands.

" _No_?' Sebastian gulfed, "I could not tell for the world." He reached over to the woman, making sure to linger hesitantly over her chest for a few seconds, before gripping the still-full beer can. He scolded her with a ' _tssk tssk_ ' and retracted. Sitting his empty can within the roof's gutter, he chucked Mercedes's can as hard as possible. The weak throw landed the beer feebly in the adjacent neighbor's yard, but it raised shock from Mercedes.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"Do you live there?" He asked.

"What?" Mercedes asked, scanning the street frantically to see if any cops were approaching to surely throw the duo away in jail for life plus.

"Do you live there?' Sebastian asked, pointing to the house of his assault. "Is that your house?"

"No, I live in LA, why?"

"Well, I don't see why you care so much about their house, they probably won't even see it. I'll bet you whoever lives there isn't even home. The owner is probably some rich movie producer who's off in a third-world country getting top from a minor, if anything, I'm doing an injustice by not throwing cans in his yard."

Mercedes sat silently for a few seconds before erupting in laughter, "That's horrible."

Sebastian nodded, "I know, I was thinking the same thing. - I'm really a terrible person."

"Yeah, you are.. I wonder if your fans would still like you if they knew."

"They'll like me whatever I do. Especially the groupies."

"That must be a good feeling." Mercedes replied, swinging her feet in the air. It stung her, to hear him admit he had 'groupies'. But she knew, everyone knew.

The small 'get together' that party promoter, Artie Abrams, was hosting was supposed to be a tiny affair. About thirty songwriters from various different genres getting together to collaborate and swipe business cards, Sebastian had even brought his guitar– it seemed like a reasonable rendezvous. But within the hour, over a hundred cars were parked outside, and fans from every side of the music spectrum were on the lawn and in the house. The way the music came on and the dancers came out instantly… one could say it was planned.

Creeping out, he saw Mercedes Jones, R&B princess, sitting on the hood of her car, seemingly aggravated. It seemed like as good a time as ever to introduce himself, and a quick, ' _You look like you need a beer_ ,' landed the two on the roof, almost drunkenly, spilling secrets that even the tabloids didn't know.

He shrugged, "The playboy life is fun for awhile. After sometime, it get's lonely. I'd much rather...' He shrugged again and threw his beer can too. It hit someone's car with a tiny ' _clank_!' and landed miserably on the ground.

" _Whatever_."

* * *

 **There will totally be some two-shots here and there. Most of the one-shots are modern, but any that are in a set period, I will mention in the opening.**


	5. no one would tell

**chapter five. no one would tell: sebastian shows all the warning signs, mercedes refuses to see**

* * *

"Mercedes, spill."

"Yeah, Mercedes. We want to know everything. Everything,' Rachel said, nodding overzealously, and placing her hand on Mercedes's thigh.

Mercedes blushed under her best friends' gaze, and she craned her neck to feign importance elsewhere. The trio could hear their boyfriends making a ruckus through the brush, though they couldn't see that Sebastian, Finn, and Jesse were playing a rough game of catch in the shallow coast of the beach.

"Chica, don't act like you care about what our boyfriends have been doing for the past thirty minutes, because you don't. I know, you know, they know, everyone knows that you and Sebastian didn't just play footsie when you guys left the campsite last night, what's up? Did he pop your age old cherry, finally?"

"Santana!' Rachel snapped, hitting Santana lightly on the arm, but the latter simply shrugged and twisted her lips in jadedness.

"I don't know,' Mercedes began, rubbing her arm lightly. "I don't know if he'd want me to tell you guys."

"Did you seriously just say that?– No, really, Mercedes Jones, did you really just say that?" Santana replied, beginning to rise from her position on a log and dust off the sand from her legs.

"No, no,' Mercedes said, pushing Santana back down and beckoning her to lower her voice. "It's not that, guys. It's just that he's so sweet, and he was so gentle with me, it's personal."

Rachel intertwined her fingers and nodded understandingly, though Santana blew out her breath in long, drawn out 'huff!'.

"Mercedes, I actually told you about that time when I thought I had crabs, did I not? Did I not tell you two, Rachel?' Santana asked for back-up, to which Rachel nodded in agreement.

"And now you don't want to tell me what happened between you and Jerry the Mouse? I am offended, I am hurt. I am disgusted, I would say even."

"That is a bit… dramatic, and I would know about dramatics, but I agree with Santana, Mercedes. We've been open and honest with you in the past about Jesse and Finn, the least you can do is tell us about this very special night for you, because it's special for us too, okay?"

Mercedes looked between the girls and after a long sigh, relented. "Okay,' she began. "We went up the coast and we talked for awhile, it was super sweet. And we held hands, it was like in a movie or something. Then we kind of geared off into the woods, and there was this beautiful clearing, and the moon was shining so perfectly, it was unbelievable. He'd already set it up, actually. There was a blanket, and he had his guitar-,'

"Wait– did he serenade you, Mercedes?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it a serenade, but…' Mercedes trailed, though before she could finish Rachel had began clapping and screeching hysterically, her excitement radiated, so brightly, it seemed, that Santana pushed herself away from her friend, and gave Mercedes a wondering glance.

"Pointless. How was the sex?" Santana deadpanned.

"Santana…' Mercedes said in a low tone, her blood rising to her cheeks.

"No, I mean, it's cool that 'The Sidekick, Robin' sung you a song, totally hot. I wish Finn would sing me a song, but his voice resembles a dying whale. A dying sperm whale." Santana responded, Rachel nodding in chagrin.

"I'm just saying, I would love to hear about how he fought crime through song and note on his dollar store guitar, but I would prefer, just a little bit, to hear about whether he rocked your world or not, and if so, was it freaking amazing?"

Mercedes stared at Rachel and Santana momentarily before bursting into laughter and nodding, "Yes, yes, it was-,'

"You did it?"

"What?"

"You fucking slut, I knew you had it in you,' Santana screamed, her and Rachel both leaning into hug Mercedes.

"How was it, Mercedes?"

"It was really… nice. It didn't hurt, he was just really sweet and gentle. It really made me feel,' Mercedes shrugged. "He made me feel special, and he just kissed me for so long and he held me after. It was really sweet, I really like him, guys."

"That's really awesome, Mercedes. It's nice that you-,' Rachel began, before being cut off by the sound of a twig snapping, followed by silent laughter. Santana stood, her long, golden legs making it over to the thin length of forest first, and Mercedes and Rachel following behind her. In front of the three stood Jesse and Finn, doubled-over in pain from laughter.

Jesse noticed the girls first, and did his best to mask his laughter.

Finn did the same, finally smirking at the three. "Sorry girls, we were trying to be really sweet and gentle, we didn't mean to disturb you all." With his hand on Finn's back, Jesse fell into hysterics again, and when he crashed into Finn's chest with laughter, the girls could see that Sebastian had been standing behind the two the entire time. He looked at Mercedes in melancholy, frowned, but said nothing.

"You guys are assholes." Rachel finally voiced.

Mercedes looked down, afraid and both embarrassed for Sebastian, she felt Santana wrap a tight arm around her shoulder.

"What's for dinner?" Santana asked, gearing the group away from the forest, and back to the shore's campsite.

The rest of the evening, Sebastian said the minimal amount to Mercedes. He still carried on with Finn, Jesse, Santana, and Rachel like normal, but whenever Mercedes would address him, he'd do his best to look away from her, and reply with a 'Yes', 'No', or an 'I don't know'. He was embarrassed over everything, and he thought Mercedes respected their relationship.

Clearly not.

For dinner the couples sat around the fire, cooking hot dogs and s'mores simultaneously. Rachel wrapped herself around Jesse, her wet hair drying off in the heat. Finn and Santana remained the only two not on a log, instead Santana sat between Finn's legs on the sand, thus she had to do all his fire-heating for him, which raised a lot of commotion, as Finn finished multiple hot dogs before Santana could even get a chance to heat her own up. Sebastian and Mercedes sat stiffly next to each other, Sebastian using one arm to hold his hot dog over the fire and the other was lodged into his knee, propping his head in his hand. He had kindly, in his opinion, offered Mercedes the first hot dog he'd cooked, and accepting, she'd filed to making their s'mores. Still nervous to try to talk to him, knowing he would have no fears of shutting her down in front of the entire group, she quietly twisted marshmallows over the fire.

When the package of hot dogs was empty, and the last marshmallow had fallen off the skewer and into the fire, Finn rested his hand on Santana's lap audibly, and said, "Well, I am tired."

"That's code for he's trying to sleep with you." Jesse directed to Santana, taking a sip from a beer can. Rachel laughed lightly, and Finn raised his eyebrows waiting for Santana's reply.

"Well, if that's what you wanted, then that's all you had to say…' Santana replied flirtatiously, standing, and taking Finn's hand. As the two walked away from the fire and to their designated tent, Santana waved to the rest of the group, "Goodnight, guys."

"Goodnight." They responded.

"I'm pretty tired, too, no funny business." Rachel said yawning.

Jesse stretched, "Yeah, we've got a pretty long drive back to Lima in the morning.' He and Rachel stood at the same time, and he extended a hand to Sebastian to shake. "Sleep well."

"Yeah, you too, Jesse."

Rachel ran behind Mercedes and gave her a tight hug, "Just tell him you didn't mean to embarrass him,' she whispered before walking away hand-in-hand with Jesse.

Sebastian stared at the fire for a few minutes, and when the rustling of Jesse and Rachel entering their tents for the night died away, he brushed off his pants and stood.

"I think I'm going to call it a night, too."

Noting that he planned to walk away and leave her alone, Mercedes stood behind him, "I'm sorry about today, Sebastian, but you don't have to be a total jerk towards me. It was an accident, I didn't mean for Jesse and Finn to hear."

Sebastian nodded, and turned around, "But you meant for Rachel and Santana to hear, though, right?"

Mercedes paused momentarily before speaking, "They're my best friends, they wanted to know. I didn't say anything to make you look stupid."

"So, you agree I look stupid?"

"Sebastian, that's not what I said."

He shrugged, "You tell me you love me, and then you go and do really stupid shit like that. You don't make fun of people you care about, Mercedes. I would have never done that to you."

"What don't you understand about me not meaning to embarrass you? It was innocent!" Mercedes said, raising her voice to a yell, though quiet enough so that everyone else wouldn't hear them.

"If you're going to yell, then I don't want to be here. I don't want to act like I want to be with someone who has no regard for my feelings and then yells at me when I'm upset about it." Sebastian said finally, and turned to walk away. Mercedes lunged for his hand to try to stop him; Sebastian turned around quickly, and in the bustle of turning and shoving her hand from away from him, he pushed her backwards, and Mercedes stumbled to the ground, scraping her hand on a log.

Sighing, Sebastian looked down at Mercedes, who was doing her best to investigate her hand in the dark. He bit his jaw, and walked away from her, not saying anything. Mercedes sat on the beach for hours, unsure of whether to wake up Santana and Rachel and demand that they leave then, or to chalk it up to the few beers they'd shared, and call it a misunderstanding.

She finally decided to return to her and Sebastian's tent. Laying down, Mercedes pulled her blankets over herself and prayed for sleep. She listened to Sebastian's deep, shallow breaths, and her heart sunk momentarily when he draped in arms around her unconsciously. She wanted to rip herself out of his grasp but she couldn't bring herself to it.

When Mercedes finally woke, the sun was on the horizon, and she could hear engines in the distance. She brushed her hair back into a ponytail, and was surprised to find the tent completely empty of everything asides from her sleeping bag and blanket. Peering outside, she, too, noted that all the tents were taken up except her and Sebastian's, and the boys were loading the last of the gear into their respective vehicles. Santana and Rachel lingered around the fire-pit and picked up the remaining the trash the group had adorned the campsite with. Mercedes folded her blanket and took to breaking down the tent. Just as she had removed the second nail from the ground, Sebastian ran up from behind her, and placed a hand on the small of her back.

"I've got this,' he said, motioning for her to leave. "Really, don't worry about it. The keys are in the ignition, and Finn got McDonald's at like six this morning, it's in his passenger seat."

"What time is it?" Mercedes asked, rubbing her eyes as they adjusted to the light.

"Ten, close to eleven."

"You could have woken me up, Sebastian. I feel bad for not helping pack up."

"No,' he said, pulling a pole from the tent. "I know you got back in the tent late last night, I figured,' Sebastian scratched at his nose. "I figured I'd let you sleep."

Mercedes eyed her boyfriend for a few seconds before picking her blanket and sleeping bag and taking it to his truck. She walked over to Finn's, and picked through the bag, settling on a sausage biscuit.

"He didn't get any OJ, I'm pretty disappointed." Jesse said, leaning on the other side of the car door. Mercedes had jumped in fright when he first spoke, and he raised his hands to ease her.

"Yeah, I'll just have to try to get this dry ass sausage biscuit down my throat on it's own."

"If you guys wanted OJ, you guys should have gotten up at six, and went and bought some. Mercedes, don't say anything, because you literally just woke up. There is a giant ocean right there, if you so desire." Finn said, coming from behind Mercedes.

"Ah, so sassy,' Mercedes retorted, giving Finn a one-armed hug. "Some of us value our beauty sleep."

"Yes, Finn, it doesn't come naturally for all of us."

Finn raised his eyebrows and laughed, crossing over and getting into the driver's side of his truck. "Once Santana is ready, we're gonna go. Are we still planning to meet up at Breadstix once we get back into Ohio? I don't know if I can make it that long without eating."

"You still have like three sandwiches in that bag."

"You're lying,' Finn began, reaching across the seat for the McDonald's bag that, did indeed, still have three sandwiches in it. "That's awesome,' he said whilst plucking one out of the greasy brown bag, and folding the opening down.

"We can still go to Breadstix, yeah. It's like a cult classic for you guys at McKinley, right?"

"It's the best,' Finn shrugged between a mouth full of food.

Santana and Rachel returned to the trucks with handfuls of garbage, dumping them into a trash bag in Finn's trunk. Mercedes backed out of the way for Santana to get into the truck, and Jesse shut the door for her.

"You good, babe?" Santana asked Mercedes, reaching for her hand through the window.

"Yeah, everything is totally copacetic." Mercedes nodded, smiling at Santana and Jesse, who was watching the girls.

Rachel put her arm around Mercedes, but Sebastian appeared before she could speak. He dropped the heavy tent into his trunk with a loud 'clunk!', and shoved his hands into his pockets. He strolled forth to where Rachel, Mercedes, and Jesse stood, and watched the three of them carefully.

"Hey." He whispered.

Rachel and Mercedes both smiled lightly in unison, and Sebastian reached forward for the wrapper remaining in Mercedes's hands. Handing it over, Mercedes thanked him softly, and Sebastian tossed the trash into Finn's trunk.

"Does Sebastian know we're meeting up at Breadstix?" Finn asked, pulling his car into drive, still resting his foot on the brakes.

"I do now, I hadn't heard a thing about it before." He laughed.

"Yeah, well, now you know. We should all get there around the same time,' Finn shrugged.

"Yeah.' Sebastian agreed, moving his hand to his face, still leaning on Finn's truck. The absence of any further chatter convinced them all that it was a good time to leave.

"Alright,' Finn said, tapping his steering wheel. "I will see you guys in a couple hours."

"Alright,' the rest replied, stepping away from the truck and waving as the two left.

Jesse followed suit, and began to stroll away to his car, "Don't get into a car accident, Sebastian. You're a terrible driver."

Sebastian shrugged, and laughed. "I'm acceptable,' he said, looking over to Mercedes.

Mercedes forced a smile, and turned to hug Rachel back.

"We'll talk when we get back home, okay?" Rachel reassured.

"Yeah, okay." Mercedes said, kissing Rachel on the cheek and squeezing the girl tightly. Jesse and Sebastian were already buckled in, Jesse impatiently rolling down his window.

"Margaret and Sue Ellen, you two will see each other on the other side, let's go!"

"Jesse, I've been out here for all of ten seconds, are you dying?"

"I will if you don't hurry up, Rachel. Your fate changes every millisecond, come on." Jesse yelled back.

Rachel sighed and trudged to Jesse's car, as Mercedes made her way to Sebastian's truck, he leaned over and opened the door for her to get in.

"Thanks." She said under her breath.

There was a six hour drive back to Lima, and other than Sebastian periodically asking if Mercedes wanted to stop to eat or use the bathroom, the couple didn't speak. Sebastian did attempt to engage in conversation multiple times, but Mercedes made her replies scarce or pretended to be asleep, which only worked so many times.

"Am I wrong in thinking that you're upset with me?"

Mercedes frowned immediately, looking over at Sebastian, who took his eyes off the road momentarily to look back at her.

"What?" He asked.

"Are you wrong in thinking I'm upset with you?"

Sebastian shrugged, "Yeah?"

"What the hell, Sebastian? After last night you're surprised that I'm upset?"

"Well,' he placed a hand to his chest. "I'm over it."

"You're over it? Well, did you get pushed on the ground and left in the middle of the night?"

"In retrospect, I see how that may have looked bad."

"Oh my God, I can't with you. I need to get out of this truck." Mercedes said, wrapping her hand around the door's handle.

"Mercedes, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you, okay. It just got out of hand, it won't happen again. I was upset and embarrassed."

Mercedes shook her head in confusion, "I just… what made you think you could treat me like this, Sebastian?"

Sebastian sighed heavily, "What happened between us was personal. I've never done that for another girl, and I've never felt like this with another girl. It was your first time, and I wanted to make it memorable for you. I really like you, Mercedes. I want what happens between us to be our business, and only ours. I know what happens in relationships when other people get involved, I kind of blew my top when I heard you telling Rachel and Santana. They were laughing at me, and you didn't defend me. I was upset, but you didn't deserve that. I just felt… really dumb. And I know you don't want me to feel stupid, right?"

Mercedes's pride faltered momentarily, and she nodded along, "Right." Maybe she wasn't so innocent either.

Sebastian nodded and leaned over to hold Mercedes's hand, "I will never hurt you again, and I will never let anyone else hurt you, okay. Just promise me that what happens between us stays between us."

Mercedes nodded, "I promise, Sebastian."

Sebastian looked over and smiled at Mercedes, he pulled her hand to his lips and laid a small kiss.

"So, I'm forgiven?"

Mercedes laughed, "Sure."


	6. fourth of july

**chapter six. the fourth of july: sebastian falls in love on independence day**

* * *

 _The fourth of July._

It always seemed like a perfect anniversary to Sebastian. If he was a woman, it'd be the day he'd like to be proposed to on, and if gender roles didn't define the population, he'd surely say yes to any woman who got on their knee to ask for his hand in marriage on that day. It was a day to show American pride, an opportunity to coat everything in red, white, and blue and truly show out. But that wasn't the feeling that Sebastian seeked.

The thrill he looked for?

The nostalgic taste of popsicles and running around on the beachfront right before the crackle of fireworks. The aching in your neck from minutes of craning your head to see the light show right above. The sad representation of the monumental moment you had just captured on your phone; the phones pixel camera could never size up to the fireworks radiance and gleam. It was timeless, a ' _you-had-to-be-there_ ' moment. A moment that Sebastian would like to spend with a friend, a relative. A woman of his dreams. The woman of his dreams. Knowing all that– knowing that if he was going to find the woman of his dreams, it would be on this night or never again, Sebastian wore his best outfit each July 4th, whether it'd be spent with family or in a club. Anywhere that day, his life was up to chance. The waitress at his parents' club, it could be her; the girl screaming at the Fall Out Boy concert, that could be her. Was it superstition? Yes. Was it dumb? _Maybe_.

But when Sebastian, focusing on the people instead of the lights, instead of the food, instead of his friends, landed his eyes on Mercedes, whom was enthralled in the show, like a deer in headlights, like a young child is their first time, he knew. He knew that his waiting, and hoping, and anticipation all these years was worth it. All those moments had culminated. It was her. _But it was already 12:01._


	7. one

**chapter seven. one: mercedes asks sebastian to speak now**

 _one - ed sheeran_

 _tell me that you turned down the man / who asked for your hand / cause you're waiting for me_

* * *

"So, you're going to say yes?"

"Yeah, Seb. That's kind of why I'm here." Mercedes put out a flickering cigarette on the rugged cement below her. A bad habit that she had put down under other people's suggestion. Putting her lips to the crisp poison was the only thing that cleared her thoughts; screaming would probably have worked too, but it didn't seem appropriate. Not that smoking did either.

"You told me you'd wait for me."

A long eerie silence filled the stale air, neither Sebastian nor Mercedes daring to open their mouths.

"Five years, Sebastian."

"You said you'd wait.' Sebastian said sternly, turning to face Mercedes. "It doesn't matter how long I was gone, you told me you would wait for me. You promised me."

"It wasn't a pinky promise." Mercedes sarcastically added. She flattened the growing wrinkles in her dress and crossed her feet at the ankles, such a regal woman with the mouth of a criminal. "Sebastian– do you know how selfish it is of you to just drop back into my life like nothing? As if we were just together last night? And not only that, but you come back on the most important day of my life? The day of my wedding. If I thought less of you, I'd think that maybe you planned this."

Sebastian shrugged, pushing his lengthy hair behind his ear. "Do you see me? You can't tell me I don't look like I just rolled out of bed, of course I didn't plan this. When I got back into town I went to see my mom. She told me."

Looking up at Sebastian, Mercedes smirked at his appearance. Reaching her hand out, she touched his face for the first time in a long time. The graze of her finger's on his skin sparked her at initial contact, causing her to draw away. "I felt it too, go ahead, it's fine."

Mercedes reached her hand out again and stroked Sebastian's hair, "It's long. I didn't recognize you at first."

"Yeah, I'm gonna go get it cut."

Mercedes shook her head, "Don't, I like it."

He shook his head.

"Tell me you picked up the habit of washing your hair regularly,' Mercedes said lightly.

Sebastian laughed, pulling Mercedes's hand from his head and enveloping it in his. He sighed and shook his head.

Mercedes shrugged, "I don't mind."

Sebastian looked up at Mercedes and smiled gently. The real world's problems seemed to disperse in thin air before Sebastian's eyes; all he could think of was how perfect the orange, rustic leaves looked as they dangled by loose grips to old trees. The shadow of the church's steeple cast on the dry grass, and the most beautiful woman in the world sat next to the most humble man on the planet: one whom favored a monarch and the other a peasant.

The peasant squeezed his queen's hand, bringing it to his lips. He kissed it lightly, running his thumb across it after.

"Sebastian."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"You know when the pastor says the thing about objecting to the marriage, right?' Sebastian nodded, "Sebastian, if you stand up, and you say that you object, I'll give myself to you. I'll leave the altar and I will forget everything that has happened over the past five years. It'll be like you never left, it'll be like before."


	8. war

**chapter eight. war: mercedes leaves, sebastian bleeds**

 _elastic heart - sia_

 _but why can i not conquer love? / and i might've got to be with one / why not fight this war without weapons?_

* * *

The cause of blood seemed to always change its color, or so Sebastian thought. A bad run in with a defensive player during a game of basketball on the blacktop back in grade school resonated in a bright neon shade of trickling blood, something you weren't afraid to show the girl you liked.

Are you okay?, they'd asked.

The scratch would turn into a battle scar, proof that you were stronger than you looked, it barely hurt.

Dark red came from fights, it came from hits to the lip from the guy you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. The type of blood that as it dripped from your nose, you had no other choice than to let fall onto your lips, your tongue. It made the altercation seem stronger, whether you had won or lost. That you were brave enough to swallow what you had lost, to gain it back. Blood, and pride along.

Burgundy, black. Red that stood between those two shades dripped from infliction from the one you love. Self-infliction all the same, the darkest shade came from when it hurt you the most. It's everyone's worst fear.

On his toes and on the tile, lie a puddle of blackish-red blood. Sebastian scraped the tile with his toe, urging the soaking blood up. It stained the concrete more. Water wouldn't change the color now, he thought of painting the entire kitchen's floor red.

Glass still surrounded his standing, he watched his feet, there was no use being cut there as well. His hands were a bloody mess, after the four first cuts Sebastian'd stop caring. He didn't grow numb, he didn't lose feeling. Every ounce of pain, he felt.

There was no whincing, no tears, the hurt made it all real. It forced him to remember, to think about the past. The future. The present, even.

As he threw the last bits of glass into the trash can, slicing his hands open even more, he saw a towel on top of the dryer. It hadn't been there before, it couldn't have been. He'd checked.

It had been there.

Sighing, Sebastian walked over to the towel and patted the blood on his hands off, it hurt too much to rub. If he'd seen the towel before he would've used it to pick the glass up, it hadn't been his intention to hurt himself.

The glass in the trash can was purple and clear, the purple a former swirl pattern. He liked the glass, it didn't match the living room's scheme, but purple was Mercedes's favorite color. When they moved in together he'd let her keep it. It was shattered now, he didn't throw it.

Sebastian threw the towel into the washer machine, the blood flow had stopped. His fingerprints left no sign on the machine, luckily. One less thing he would have to clean.

He moved over to the sink and proceeded to wash his hands, he made the water lukewarm. He couldn't decide whether hot or cold water would hurt more, he chose the gray.

He couldn't remember what had started the argument, he didn't want it, his parents were coming over. When she had gotten in his face, demanded that he'd listen, he'd pushed her away. It had been a light push– it had been a light push, right?

He couldn't remember.

He was cleaning, he was preoccupied.

Mercedes could argue with him later, his parent's were coming.

They never came, this was a once in a lifetime thing.

It had been quiet in the apartment for a long time, it seemed long. Music was playing loudly, he couldn't hear what was going on. For the first time he had felt fear in his own home, like he wasn't safe. He turned around.

The vase was in shards, it was at his feet. Mercedes was staring at him, tears in her eyes, bags in her hand.

The wall was dented, her hand was trembling.

Sebastian wasn't concerned with her tears, her bags, he turned around. The wall.

"My parents are coming!" He yelled.

She shook her head, "I can't live like this anymore."

"You could have killed me."

"I'm leaving."

He shrugged, "What am I supposed to tell my mom?"

She shrugged.

Sebastian looked back down at his feet, he sighed. None of the glass had hit him, if he had turned around a second later…

"Go."

And she went.

He threw a rug in the corner of the kitchen, it covered the blood stain. He put a poster on the wall, it covered the dent. He wouldn't let them into the kitchen.

He dried his hands, he put on gloves. He would just say that he had returned home not too long ago, he hadn't taken them off yet.

It was October.

Sebastian waited, and he waited. He knew Mercedes wouldn't be back, that he expected.

'Sorry, we can't make it. The weather!' they'd said.

'Yeah, the weather.'


	9. prom

**chapter nine. prom: sebastian and mercedes go to prom. set during the 60s.**

* * *

"I did this for you."

Sebastian read the five words written on the note that had been passed to him; he crumbled it up before anyone other than it's sender noticed. He darted his eyes towards Quinn, and shook his head: he knew exactly what those words meant, and they correlated perfectly with why Mercedes wasn't in her normal seat in Ms. Todd's third period, and why she would never be again. Needless to say, Sebastian failed to pay attention for the rest of the class, plotting in his head how he'd get back at Quinn, or how he could get Mercedes back in school. Maybe he'd just let the entire school know what Quinn had done, but everything inside of Sebastian told him that they'd probably pat Quinn on the back of the shoulder for her actions, rather than reprimanding her. Annoyance, disgust, and anger boiled to a point in Sebastian's throat, he saw red.

It'd all began the night of the school's junior prom, a day that should have went down in everyone's book as one of the greatest nights of their lives. Sebastian and Mercedes knew they couldn't show up to the dance together, so instead they both opted to go with someone they were friends with, and ran through checks of what they could, and couldn't do with their partner. If either person slipped up, the other would be across the dance floor with eyes on them, and the end wouldn't be pretty. It felt controlling and limited, but it was all they had. Sebastian's first decision was to go with Harmony Pierce, his cousin Hunter's girlfriend, he'd talked about it with him, and Hunter had agreed. Harmony was a junior, and Hunter a senior. The only people permitted into either prom were those of the corresponding grade, and both were left stag. Though Hunter and Sebastian had agreed on the arrangement, Harmony had refused due to her allegiance to her friend, Quinn. Sebastian had nearly forgotten about the relationship of sorts that he had with Quinn, since it meant particularly nothing to him. As for Quinn, Sebastian was the moon to her stars, and she'd been waiting for the minute he'd ask her to prom. To avoid being rude, and to make sure that he did not make his first prom appearance alone, he invited Quinn as his date. Much to Mercedes chagrin, Sebastian told the girl that he had only done so to avoid the confrontation that would inevitably ensue between him and Quinn's friends had he not. Truthfully, he couldn't bare being seen unoccupied at the dance, while Mercedes swayed between Matt's arms all night, the latter always seeming to be an enemy to Sebastian.

The night spent between Mercedes and Sebastian prior to prom involved a single promise: that no matter how good or bad prom was, they'd give each other one dance. The dance would probably be in a secluded hallway or behind the school, but it'd be something. They wished each other the best of luck, but most importantly, to have fun.

Prom seemed to last forever, the meager seven to eleven, felt like ten hours of awkward hand holding and misplaced pelvic touching. Quinn fawned over the idea of being at the dance with Sebastian, and it didn't help him that the couple won Prom King and Queen. Sebastian noted that Mercedes clapped excitedly along with the crowd when he was crowned, furthermore prompting him to want to get away as soon as possible.

"Are you having fun?" Harmony asked after his crowning.

Sebastian could only give the girl a weak, half-smile before being dragged back onto the dance floor by his date. It was only by 10:45 that Sebastian managed to steal away from Quinn, who was preoccupied with showing off her crown, rip Mercedes from her priorities, and walk out of the gym.

"Mercedes,' he groaned as soon as he could. She was taking the situation better than he, but Sebastian couldn't stand another minute of faking happiness, to whatever extent he even accomplished that at. Barely stepping away from the door, he backed his girlfriend into a hallway, and cupped her cheeks quickly for a kiss. If his hands hadn't dropped down to her waist in time, his forthcoming lie would have seemed unlikely.

" _Sebastian_?"

The next few hours were filled with tears, apologies, and fake emotions. By the end of the night, Sebastian had convinced Quinn that Mercedes was just a friend whom had outed her feelings for him, and proceeded to kiss him immediately. When asked why he was in a hallway alone with her, he told Quinn that he'd walked out for a swig of water, and when he had turned around there she was. In Quinn's mind, she could have seen Sebastian and Mercedes in the action of lust-ridden sex, and would still find an excuse for Sebastian, as if Sebastian would leave prom queen Quinn Fabray alone at a dance to go kiss Mercedes who? The lie flowed so easy, he didn't even have to try. To Mercedes he simply said, "It's under control."

Quinn promised Sebastian that the incident would stay between them, as to not cause Mercedes any more embarrassment. She agreed, and for a week it seemed like the problem had slipped away. Until Finn had mentioned to Sebastian that Mercedes had been suspended for the rest of the year for 'instigating uprisal'. Instigation? That didn't even sound like Mercedes.

When Quinn passed the note to Sebastian that said ' _I did this for you_ ,' he didn't need to hear more, he knew who had done it. The release bell couldn't come soon enough. When it did the classroom emptied, teacher and all. The only students left were Sebastian and Quinn, the latter seeming to linger for the former. With lightning speed, Sebastian was beside her with a tight grip on her arm.

"Ouch, Sebastian-'

"Quinn, you vermin bitch, you fix this." He let her go, jerking away from her arm. "Or so help me God, you'll regret knowing me."


	10. finale

**chapter ten. finale: mercedes and sebastian break up. set during the 60s.**

* * *

Sebastian rubbed his neck, and sat down next to Mercedes. She was usually the one to keep cool in these types of situations, never raise her voice, never curse, but this time was different. This time, Sebastian had been trying to keep Mercedes from knowing the truth, and in his portrayal of obliviousness, he'd almost forgot what the truth was. When one lies for long enough, their reality becomes the lie, and the truth sometimes appears to be the lie that was once told.

A night of simple enjoyment, and pleasure had quickly morphed into something much worse, more sinister. Flatly, Sebastian and Mercedes weren't as stealthy as they thought they were. More than once had one or the other left traces of each other behind for others to see. The only people in the world who cared enough to take note were their mothers. Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Smythe had came together, after years of separation, to reprimand the couple of their actions, and incline a small, quiet break-up. It wasn't until the to women saw how much in love their children were, that they knew that in the end they'd be punished for breaking up what may have been, could of been, was, true love.

From there on out, the two were allowed clandestine meetings in the afternoon, and night, usually as Sebastian's house. His father worked all kinds of hours, and had many other affairs consuming his time, whereas he was rarely home to ask his son even the slightest of news. Mercedes had siblings, and a father who came home at 10:13 on the dot, nightly. There was never much of a chance for the two to meet at her house, unless they were outside in the furthest area of her backyard, where overgrowth took over the vicinity, and the area turned more into a clearing. There, the area was secluded, and the two spent as much time as they could both tolerate.

Their hanging out was usually quite free-flowing, and filled with talking, and laughter, sometimes kissing, sometimes just being close to each other like they longed to do in public. Frequently Sebastian thought, 'How awkward it will be to see you in the streets in 10, 20 years with my wife by my side, and my children in tote. To know we were once like this, the regret… the embarrassment.'

He wasn't sure of what Mercedes thought of the relationship, but the knowing that it would never leave his basement made him sick to his stomach. She was more of an activist than he, and he more passive than she. Sebastian was okay with living in the discomfort of racism, because it didn't directly concern him. It would never concern him, unless he walked out of the house with Mercedes on his armed, and asked, or rather demanded to be accepted. That, he could never do, to himself, or his family.

Thus his decision would be to break up with her. That night; end things before they got too deep. It had been his plan all along to see exactly what the two had between each other. The answer was everything. They had everything, Sebastian couldn't ruin the lives of the people around him in his selfish grasp for everything he wanted, and more. Hopefully, Mercedes would understand. That this had been fun, and memorable, and no matter where he was or who was with, he'd rather it be her– at least for now. But he had to let her go before she began to make plans for the nonexistent future, before it hurt too much to rip from each other's arms, before one of them ended up dead.

"I just want to hold you…,'

 _One last time._

It was in this position, that Mercedes cuddled into Sebastian, and Sebastian with his head atop Mercedes's head, tears welling in his eyes, that the basement door burst open. It was not until then that Sebastian heard his mother's warning cries of his name, and it was then that he also saw his drunken father begin to clobber down the stairs. What was he to do? His fathers' eyes locked with his almost instantly, and he knew that the former had taken in the scene just as soon as he'd opened the door. What was the purpose of jumping, and running? Jumping, and hiding? Yelling, pushing Mercedes away– what was the point? Mercedes was in fear, and had backed away from the couch. As for Sebastian, he stayed in his position on the couch, and stared his dad in the face. His father's countenance never faltered, until he shook his head at his son, and spit on the ground. Backing out of the basement, Sebastian heard the front door slam, and knew his father was gone.

His mother, disheveled, came to the basement door, and shut it. Her lip was bloody, and her hair a mess. Sebastian figured that his father had come home on a drunken rage. They were far and few between, but each time they happened Sebastian's father made a point to come to the basement to sweat it out. The altercation between his mother, and father had to have happened when she objected to him going to the basement.

"Mom.. I'm sorry–' Sebastian began, finally standing, and reaching out to the woman.

She began to shake her head in order to cut him off, she shut the door behind her, leaving Sebastian and Mercedes alone.

Looking over to the girl who was shaken, and crying, Sebastian attempted to comfort her. "It's okay, it'll be fine. He didn't even look at you. He probably didn't even see you." Even in his worst moment, he managed to look out for other people's well being, their feelings, their comfort.

 _"Are you really that fucking blind?"_

Sitting back down on the couch, Sebastian sighed, and wiped away the welled up tears in his eyes. "Just.. just go. And don't come back. It's over, for good. Forever."


	11. daddy roth car

**chapter eleven. daddy roth car: mercedes is the mayor's daughter. sebastian is the son of the local mechanic. he, conveniently, comes to the rescue. set during the 90s**

 _i took your name - r.e.m._

 _i wrote the sales pitch/ i threw the brake switch/ i dragged your big ass daddy roth car out of that ditch/ if there is some confusion/ who's to blame?_

* * *

"Sebastian, you are a lifesaver."

The boy nodded, stepping down into the ditch and running his hands over the tilted BMW. He bit his jaw and opened the car door. "I always come when you call,' he beckoned.

"I know, I owe you,' Mercedes said, pulling her coat tighter around her and walking towards the ditch. Sebastian started the car, and pushed it into a gear Mercedes had never bothered to use. He kept the door wide open, but warned Mercedes to back up.

The tires kicked up dirt instantly, Sebastian switching the car into reverse momentarily to change the tide. After a few more tries, he was able to pull out of the ditch and put the car halfway back onto the road. It wasn't a busy street, few lights lit the pavement. The car survived with a few scratches, but it was much better than Mercedes having to tell her father she got his car stuck in a ditch.

Sebastian left the keys in the ignition, and walked towards Mercedes, who was clapping excitedly. She forgot her person, and wrapped her arms wide around Sebastian, pushing him back a few steps. He smiled generously, and placed his hands around her back for a few small taps.

"I'm sorry,' she apologized, pulling away.

"No worries,' Sebastian said, nodding and running his hands off on his pants. He smiled in the dim light, the BMW still humming lightly in the back.

"I should pay you,' Mercedes said, walking over to her car to get her purse. Sebastian stopped Mercedes with a hand on her arm and shook his head.

"It's okay,' he laughed. "I came because I wanted to help you. Just tell your friends the next time they break down on the side of the road to call 'Smythe and Co'. That'll be your return."

Mercedes chuckled, watching Sebastian's hand on her arm. Sebastian followed her eyes and let go quickly, bringing his hands to his pockets. He was alone with the mayor's daughter on a secluded street, and the last thing he wanted was for her to tell the entire school he'd tried to make an advance on her.

She wanted to touch him again.

"Maybe 'Smythe and Co' will be my little secret, would that bother you too much?" Mercedes laughed, smiling at the local mechanic's son.

He shook his head, " _Between us_ ,' he whispered.


	12. five times

**chapter twelve. five times: five times mercedes and sebastian almost hold hands; the one time they do**

 **1\. seventh grade; bus**

Mercedes lingered over Sebastian momentarily, her hair hanging above Sebastian's head as she pulled up their seat's window. Sitting back roughly, her hair bobbed and she turned to him with a wide smile. Her thick cheeks filled most of her face, a tight volleyball jersey matching Sebastian's loose cross country jersey. Combining buses to go to sporting events was McKinley Middle's speciality, as was loosely applied seating rules. The promise of detention if anyone was caught sitting with a member of the opposite sex was never fulfilled, and Mercedes and Sebastian took the opportunity to break the rule each time they got a chance. They didn't have any classes together that year, compared to having every class together in sixth grade. The activity bus was the home of all of their communication during the seventh grade, a bumpy ride of anywhere from ten minutes to two hours.

 _"_ _Are you excited, Seb?"_

Sebastian jolted his shoulders, smiling coyly. He answered and continued the conversation, shoving his **hands** between his thighs as he watched Mercedes move and talk actively with her own. After a few minutes, Mercedes calmed and placed her **hands** on the seat and faced forward. There wasn't much conversation to be had, and butterflies in both of their stomachs from anticipation kept words from forming.

Glancing over, Sebastian noted that no one else had bothered following the same-sex seating rule. Instead, plenty of seventh grade boys sat intertwined with giggling girls. Sebastian frowned at himself, scrawny boy with **hands** tucked tightly between his legs; bubbly girl with a wide smile bobbing beside him– she was so much more than he. Her **hands** sat tapping the blue leather seat lightly, begging to be held. Sebastian bit at his lip and considered, for a long time, reaching over and sliding his long, pale fingers between her's. He could not deal with her ripping away, however, or the laughs that would inevitably arise from the rejection.

They, instead, sat silently for the rest of the ride, far apart in one seat.

 **2\. sophomore year; winter festival**

The 'Winter Festival' in Lima, Ohio was a keypoint in the city's calendar. People from all over the state came to enjoy a Christmas parade, New Year celebration, and various rides, venues, and snacks during the time. It was a ritual for every Liman to go at least three times during it's course. Mercedes and Sebastian, both desperately in need of volunteer hours, sided to volunteer during the Winter Festival– a month and half long engagement.

Sebastian had his driver's license by that time, but Mercedes didn't. She was a few months younger than him, and her parents were stricter on letting her drive with her permit. Though she didn't mind letting him give her a ride from school to the park the festival was held in, Mercedes was strict on making sure Sebastian never took her home. Or saw where she lived, for a matter-of-fact. Sebastian, along with everyone else, knew Mercedes was ridiculously rich, but nobody understood why she tried so hard to hide it.

On multiple occasions, the park closed before or after the time it was scheduled to, and on the former, Sebastian often ended up sitting on a railing with Mercedes by his side, waiting for her ride.

"Why don't you just let me take you home?" He'd say, jingling his keys in his **hands** , swooped low into his knees. Mercedes always offered an excuse, poor ones at that. She was a bad liar.

Usually it was cold, below freezing. Mercedes always forgot to bring gloves, and would end up blowing her breath into her **hands** , complaining of the freezing temperature. Sebastian's **hands** were cold too, especially when wrapped around the metal railing, railing with chipped painting that stuck to even colder **hands**. He thought to grab for her **hand** , help keep them both warm, but something always got in the way. Other volunteers exiting the park and waving farewells or Mercedes's ride arriving; **holding hands** wasn't in his cards, not for the boy who'd been in love with the girl since they were children.

 **3\. junior year; political rally**

Neither Sebastian nor Mercedes were ever very politically-motivated or even politically active. It was, however, a curriculum assignment that each student in political science participated in one political or social rally during the year. It wasn't until Ohio's then senator, looking for reelection, came to Lima for a rally. Sebastian and Mercedes, partners during political science class, vowed to do their assignment together, and ended up at the rally. Shortly afterwards, large groups of supporters and non-supporters divided in the road to protest the senator. Mercedes and Sebastian, completely oblivious to any true political platform, vied for the non-supporters side and watched in amazement as wild fanatics yelled and taunted the other side. Police did little to calm the commotion, until rocks were being thrown, and a fight broke out in the mist of the crowd.

It wasn't a tear-gas-worthy event, but soon people were shouting and crying and police were using batons to encourage home-bound movement. Sebastian, focused on the growing crowd, had forgot to check for Mercedes's well being. Clearly shaking, Mercedes's lip trembled and her eyes watched the crowd wearily. The enormous thumping of her heart could be heard throughout the people, and nails carved into her skin. They needed to go before something bad happened, that was evident.

Still swept away in buried affection, Sebastian's glance lingered on Mercedes's small **hands**. He stood in thought, still in a crowd of moving figures, wondering if grabbing for Mercedes's **hand** would be the wrong thing to do. He had, over the course of some years, grown some self confidence– enough to flirt openly with Mercedes and be flirted back with. Enough to convince him that there lie some mutual affection, not enough to convince him that he should have reached for her **hand** and led her out of the crowd like she deserved.

On a tightrope, Sebastian reached for Mercedes's **hand** swiftly. The girl turned around, catching Sebastian short, wide-eyed.

 _"_ _Let's get out of here,'_ Mercedes said in shivers, forcing her **hands** into her jacket's pockets and biting her lips.

 **4\. junior year; rachel berry's house**

Jesse and Rachel loomed in the kitchen for longer than was needed, getting ice didn't take twelve minutes. Weekly 'game night' was a bust when the hosts decided to hook up after one round of whatever game, and leave Mercedes and Sebastian alone to play a four-person game. Relenting, the duo retired to the couch and kicked up their feet to watch something on television. The remote controller sat between their thighs, and was reached for by the individuals at mutual time.

Sebastian drew away and cleared his throat to allow Mercedes access to the remote, but she grabbed for his **hand** before he could pull away.

"Sebastian, you're **hands** are huge,' Mercedes said in amazement, placing her palm on top of his for comparison. His fingers elongated for over an inch and a half past the tip of hers, and his palm exceeded her own in area. Her dark skin contrasted his even in the dark, her pink nails gloating against his bare, unkempt nails. They stared at their **hands** pressed together momentarily, smiled internally at what could have been.

"You have ridiculously small **hands** , like a child's,' he joked, Mercedes chuckling along. Her fingers threaded his outspread **hand** , beginning to curve into a **hand hold**.

Jesse stumbled into the living room with his **hands** around Rachel's waist, both still reeling from their rendezvous. Sebastian retracted quickly, placing his **hand** underneath his leg, and paying full attention to the bubbly couple.

 _"_ _What have you two been up to?"_

 **5\. senior year; prom**

Bloody purple shook violently in the dark, the stars and moon providing meager light. Rain fell, but not from the sky, and Sebastian looked along in sympathy. Mercedes's ripped corsage sat crushed underneath her bedazzled foot, almost intertwined by his firm leg. Her nails, when not rushing through her once curled hair, pulled loose silver from her dress, flinging worthless jewels into the dark street before them. Sebastian did his best to block the fallen star from crafty youth escaping the gym to drive home in drunkenness, many to lose their purity. Mercedes, however, scraped the bottom of the barrel and prayed for forgiveness to whichever sin she had committed. Her heart felt heavy, she heaved to relieve the pressure. Each breath gave less validation to the worth of life speech.

Sebastian's **hand** rolled down to the small of Mercedes's back, his touch sending shivers up her spine. Looking down at the miserable flower, he wondered who had left it, left her, to wilt. For so long it was gardened and pampered, then cut and shipped, sold and worn, then thrown and crushed. Seduced and convinced, made over and made whole, arrived and stood up, then thrown and crushed. Sebastian's kind eyes kept the rose from decay in front of many passersby, all until he plucked her and lead her to it's resting place, where it sat sobbing. Where she sat underneath a dark foot.

Who had stood Mercedes Jones up for prom?

"I just wanted one night,' she choked out, gasping for air. "One night, Sebastian, to just feel good about myself… why couldn't I have that?"

Her **hand** was lost in her hair, unwilling to be held. Instead he put his arms around her and his chin on Mercedes's head. "You'll have it, I promise… don't,' he trailed. _Don't worry._

 **6\. after graduation; airport**

"Really, thank you for being here with me."

"No problem,' Sebastian said, forcing a smile. "You've been there when I needed you the most, not to be sentimental. It's, just, only right."

Mercedes smiled, wiping her flattened **hands** over her pants. She was nervous. Her bags sat beside her, a few items of luggage as well. Her acceptance to Howard University came as a surprise, but also a good opportunity to get out of Lima. Mercedes was, for lack of better words, over Lima. Or Ohio to be specific. Sebastian and her family were her only true ties to the state, and since the latter couldn't make it to her moving day, Sebastian showed up to the airport at 5 A.M. to wait with the girl of his dreams.

He convinced himself that he loved her enough to let her go. He would never be man enough to tell her how he felt, so what was the point of holding her there? To force himself to watch her fall in love with a guy who could give her what she deserved? To allow himself to settle or be settled upon? – It wasn't fair to either of them, they needed another chapter.

Mercedes eyed Sebastian's wide **hands** lying face down on his pants, they looked… empty. Leaning over, she placed her palm on top of his and gave a few gentle taps.

"You have truly been the only person to never switch up, Bas."

"And you have truly shown me the ins-and-outs of Ebonics, so I actually understand that sentence,' Sebastian joked, watching the Mercedes's **hand**. "What makes you say that?"

Flipping over Sebastian's **hand** , Mercedes intertwined her fingers with his finally and sighed. "I just was thinking that I can't imagine living without you. I want to be as close to you as possible before I go."

Looking up, Sebastian searched Mercedes's eyes for any revelation of motivation. She, as usual, remained stoic. On a leap of faith, perhaps, Sebastian let go of her **hand** , and pressed it to the back of her neck; he pulled Mercedes closer, and broke the gap, kissing her tender lips as he had wished for so long before.

The kiss was small. But the meaning got across.

 **Ending A.**

Mercedes pulled back gently, placing both **hands** in her lap. She smiled deeply as Sebastian recovered, his **hands** still lightly around her neck.

"I've wanted to do that for so long,' he began, a giant sigh releasing from his chest.

Mercedes nodded, "I know, Sebastian. – _I, just, love you… like a brother._ "

 **Ending B.**

Mercedes laughed into Sebastian's lips, "What took you so long?"

He shook his head, kissing her again smoothly. "I didn't know you felt the same."

Mercedes laughed, pulling away, but attaching her **hand** to Sebastian's and **holding** it in her lap. "I've loved you since we were kids, Sebastian. – It was always you, I don't want you to think you're stopping me from reaching my goals, but I want to be with you. I want to stay here with you, and find out what's between us. That's my priority."


	13. camping

**chapter thirteen. camping: mercedes and sebastian go camping**

 _rated m for mature_

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Drifting comfortably into her rucksack, Mercedes crossed her arms over her chest and released a heavy sigh. Sebastian watched his wife, small fragments of moonlight shining into the tent to illuminate her buttery skin and gift him glances. He pitted his head against his spread hand, and heaved slowly in the silence. A day full of hiking, fishing, building, and destroying left it's residue and caked dirt beneath fingernails. They breathed in the damp smell of pine trees and heavy clouds, so often mimicked by air fresheners or sensors. A gust of wind was a enough to encourage Mercedes to pull her blanket higher, bite her lips, and turn towards Sebastian.

"I'm glad you planned this,' she whispered. With work getting between the two and the constant struggle on whether or not they were ready for kids, Mercedes and Sebastian had relented on spending much time with each other. Mercedes's career as a wedding singer took her across Ohio, and sometimes over state lines. Sebastian was still managing through law school, and with finals approaching, found himself looming in libraries and coffee shops more than bedding his wife as he should. There was tension between the two, tension that would soon boil into hatred, if not destruction.

The time was right for a small piece of spontaneity, and Sebastian convinced Mercedes that a 'bit of fresh air' could do the two good. They packed a few supplies, and headed to a camping ground a few hours away from their home in Toledo. Few words were shared on the drive there or even upon arrival. Mercedes did, however, find each opportunity possible to mention her distaste in camping. The bugs, the smell, the lack of any public facilities for hygiene. Sebastian had never been an outdoors-guy either, but he'd gone camping a few times while getting his bachelors, and it was the only form of a true getaway he could muster up during a weekend, on top of two very busy schedules and amongst piling bills.

Though it was neither of their ideals, the thought counted, and their presence was even more highly valued. "Yeah?' Sebastian whispered back, using his other hand to trace Mercedes's hair along her face.

She nodded definitely, "It's fun to get away, really get away. Just leave everything behind us, when it's just you and me."

"That's how I promised you it would be when we got married, just you and I."

Mercedes laughed, "What would we do if it was only you and I in this big world? Could you live with me?"

Sebastian nodded, "I could live with you and only you. I would like it better that way."

She smiled and found Sebastian's trailing hand in the dark and held it over her chest. Their breathing fell into sync, him following the air that she tread on. It had been a long time since they were intimate, a long time since they had even had a deep conversation. Mercedes had always relied on Sebastian to read her actions, and to understand what she meant without saying. They understood each other perfectly, but somewhere they had fallen out of line. When Sebastian began to draw away, he didn't realize that Mercedes wanted him close. The lingering panties on the floor or the sweet notes in his lunch went unnoticed, and so the triggers stopped coming. Mercedes released as well, and they spun in limbo until they lived separate lives under one roof. Love still existed, but the connection that had burned hot only a year ago cooled. Everyone warned the two about getting married so early on, but when Mercedes or Sebastian had put themselves to something, there was no stopping them.

"I love you,' he whispered.

Mercedes nodded and bit her lip, "I know."

Sebastian let go of his wife's hand momentarily, and eased his hand further down her chest, enveloping his hand over her breast. Massaging the area softly, he leaned down to peck Mercedes on the lips. Mercedes licked her lips quickly, and moved her empty hand to Sebastian's back to pull him in.

"I love you, Sebastian,' she admitted between long kisses as Sebastian slid his hand underneath her shirt. Upon the word, he moved his hand behind Mercedes's back, and fell back into his previous place, pulling Mercedes forward to straddle him.

Her long hair fell down like a curtain for the two before Sebastian leaned upwards, and ran both his hands through Mercedes's hair.

"I want you,' he whispered, kissing down her neck and into her shoulder.

Mercedes stroked the nape of his neck, suppressing a moan. "It's been a while,' Mercedes whispered, beginning to rock her hips against Sebastian's growing erection.

Looking up at Mercedes, Sebastian paused for a moment and searched her eyes. Mercedes remained stoic before he nodded. "I know."

Mercedes looked down to shield herself from his dark gaze, instead beginning to unbutton the flannel shirt she wore, and thanking herself for her constant habit of sleeping in only panties.

Sebastian helped Mercedes slip off the shirt, his shirt, and tossed it to his side of the tent. He looked Mercedes over, their gaze finally meeting. Mercedes offered a quaint smirk, her hand still wrapped behind her husband's neck. Leaning in closer to Sebastian, she kissed along his hear. Beginning to gyrate again, she whispered, "Please."

As if the gates had been lifted, Sebastian began again, moving his hands to cradle Mercedes's breasts, and aiding her in foreplay by pressing his hips in a growing dance between the two. Sebastian lifted himself for a few seconds to grant some release, pulling his sweatpants and briefs down slightly to reveal himself.

Sebastian slipped his hand between Mercedes's thighs, a soft moan escaping her lips. She finally pulled back from his ear, her hair flying back in near slow-motion. She pressed her forehead to Sebastian's, and bit her lips. She was moist even on the outside of her underwear, pulling them to the side, Sebastian sunk two fingers into her shallowly. Mercedes only smirked; Sebastian pulled his fingers to her clit and rubbed slowly in circular motions.

Mercedes usually came quickly, the two even had a running joke about it. Sebastian was, needless to say, more sexually experienced than his wife, and could run his course. Mercedes, however, only took moments until convulsing in waves of pleasure, a blessing and a burden. Sebastian could always be sure that she wasn't faking an orgasm, at least.

Switching between applying pressure between her opening and massaging her clit gently, Sebastian could feel Mercedes getting wetter. Before long, she was moaning and repeating his name over and over.

"Fuck,' she whispered finally, beginning to ride Sebastian's slow-paced fingers. "Faster,' she said, wrapping both arms around him. He did as she asked, and quickened his pace, smiling at her euphoria.

"Like that?' he asked patiently.

Mercedes nodded, her head drifting sideways. "Just like that,' she said before halting. "I'm coming, Sebastian, don't stop."

With a few more loud and impressive moans, Mercedes sighed heavily into Sebastian's hair, moving his hands back. She kissed him passionately, giving him entrance to her tongue. Lifting up slightly, she did the honors of sliding down onto him, his entering evoking moans immediately from both.

Sebastian was never very vocal during sex, he was more physical. He hit and grabbed things when he climaxed, and occasionally said things to 'motivate' his partners, but never much in the line of his own satisfaction. Having had been away for Mercedes's body for so long, an intense surge of pleasure enwrapped him before he could stop himself.

"Shit,' Sebastian moaned as Mercedes rode him slowly, her tight pussy getting wetter with each stroke.

Falling back onto his arms, Sebastian started to press forward, pushing himself as deep as possible into Mercedes.

"Sebastian,' she moaned, leaning over him, her hair drizzling over his bare chest. They moaned in unison, before quickening their pace. They continued until Mercedes's moans began to stifle, and her fingers began to grip their resting place tightly.

"You can't come first this time,' Sebastian joked, slowing down, and moving back forward.

Mercedes smiled, "It's hard when the person I'm sleeping with is such a good lay."

Sebastian chuckled, and moved his hand to her lower back. Flipping her so that Mercedes was now on the bottom, he slowly treaded into her, deeper than before. Mercedes spread her legs as wide as possible and clenched her pelvis.

She pushed her head back in ecstasy before Sebastian gripped his blanket and thrust finally. Mercedes felt a quick whirl of warmth inside of her before coming as well, smiling when Sebastian pulled out of her throbbing pussy and kissed her lips again.

"That was so good,' she whispered, kissing Sebastian back.

He nodded, "We should go camping more often."


	14. break up

**chapter fourteen. break up: sebastian and mercedes talk for the first time after she stands him up for prom. 2000**

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For as long as the flower remained intact, Sebastian fiddled with the lone purple corsage, the occasional petal falling slowly onto his stomach. When the bud was left alone, he threw the decremental across his room and finished untucking his button-up. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he noticed the trace of previous tears down his flushed cheeks and red eyes; Sebastian rubbed at his closed eyelids feverishly, granting him a look of tiredness rather than sorrow. He slipped out of his shirt, the suit's jacket already hanging lousily on his bedpost. A thin white shirt remained beneath, clung tightly to his chest, neatly tucked underneath a solid black belt. He unbuckled his pants and the belt slowly, fingers trembling around the loops. Frustration pooled over, Sebastian eventually negating to take the belt from the pants, and throwing the duo in the corner together. His shoes remained by the door, untouched since he arrived home. He saw some light reflect from the dark pair, wishing that he could be soothed by the idea of prom, at least. Sebastian could still feel the playful jostling of his shoulders by friends when they'd realized Sebastian's date was a no-show. He had, in his best attempt to keep from embarrassment, laughed at himself and sized up a hopeless blonde instead. She'd offered an invitation to an after-party, to which he kindly neglected. It felt like the wrong decision now, he pondered. A party would have been a good opportunity to drown in his sorrows, in some whiskey, but he was clouded by bubbling self-pity when she asked, and the idea of further human interaction was enigmatical.

Reviewing his reflection once more, Sebastian's eyes traveled from his boxers up. White t-shirt, cleanly shaved, new haircut, thin taper down the nape of his neck; his fingers trailed behind his ear slowly. At the current moment, everything in his life seemed useless. Everything he had been building up to failed to allow him what he most wanted, he stood alone at the end of the night, alone like usual. He ended in a slow trek back to his bed, quietly so that his mother nor his sister would realize his presence and ask on his experience. Sebastian was content with never discussing the night's events again, but he knew as soon as the next day, he would have to dawn a smile and a joking demeanor as if his heart were not sore. Everyone would expect him to make light of the situation, but the pain in his chest riddled different. In conscious thought, he hymned that never going to school again would be the best solution. Sebastian's heart was damaged, he had never gotten his hopes up so much. He decided previously that he would put everything on the line for Mercedes. His popularity, his reputation, he would give up his name to call her his… for so long she had made him felt like it was his doing that they were not together. That Sebastian was the one keeping the two from announcing their feelings, and he believed her. Prom was to be the new precedent, and for once, Mercedes proved him wrong.

He was, if nothing else, embarrassed.

Adjusting into his plush covers, Sebastian laid his head in his hand and sighed deeply. Resting his eyes momentarily, his ears rang brilliantly along with the home phone beside his bed. He picked it up between it's first and second ring, hoping to avoid his parent's arousal. He knew who it was already, anyhow. The line wavered silently momentarily, before a low, this time raspy, voice began.

"I thought maybe you'd be at a party or something…"

"No,' Sebastian replied curtly, lying flat on the bed with his hand draped softly on his chest. He sighed softly, impatiently.

Mercedes bit her lip across the line, a slow love song playing in the background. She fingered through her coarse hair, hoping to alleviate some guilt. "How was it?"

"Fine."

"That's good,' Mercedes replied, gazing at her reflection from a dresser's mirror. She thumbed at anything she could get her grasp on, a pillow, her toes, her blankets, her hair, again. "I wanted you to have fun." Upon hearing Sebastian give a dry, distasteful laugh, she continued. "You sound upset."

"I've said two words."

"Exactly…' Mercedes sighed. "Sebastian, I'm sorry."

Sebastian gazed around his room's ceiling, holding onto the distant voice in short replies. "Is that it?"

"I just wanted to apologize, I understand if you never want to talk to me again."

"Why'd you do it, Mercedes? I mean… why? We talked about this, you wanted this. I embarrassed myself, and you let me think this entire time I was the one who didn't want us to happen."

A stifled choke over the line revealed Mercedes held some emotion, she breathed heavily through the receiver, wiping her hand across her warm face. "I just couldn't, Sebastian. I can pretend like I don't care what other people think, but I do. I just… I love you, I do, but I couldn't go through with it.. – I'm hurting as much as you are-"

"No, Mercedes. I don't think you are, you will never know how I feel. There's no coming back from this, I can't…" He forced a heavy hand through his hair, his heart beating in ominous thumps.

"What are you saying?" Mercedes asked in small sobs. Sebastian's heart grieved, he had not expected her to be the one in tears.

"I can't do this anymore. _Not with you_."

"Sebastian, it didn't-"

"Mercedes, don't. Don't, please."

Burrowing her head into her hand, Mercedes listened for any transmission of Sebastian's, she strained to hear through her choked sobs. Sebastian free hand positioned itself against his temples, holding his face in an expression formidable to tears. He had an overwhelming need to hold or be held, just to be in someone's grasp, but the thought of Mercedes looking innocently in his bed drove him to rage rather than adoration. When he thought of her, romantically at least, he could only see her betrayal a thousand times over. He would have not been so sickened had he not truly believed Mercedes was willing to sacrifice for him. Countless times she joked, ' _What would my friends say if they found out I was dating some scrawny white boy?_ ', but she'd relent and admit that Sebastian's popularity stood between the two. Mercedes was convinced that her materialistic, superficial, super-secret boyfriend was obsessed with appearances and would never bear the cross of appearing in public with her. Mercedes convinced systematically that she would give no mind to what people had to say about their relationship, that anyone who had anything to say about the two could kiss her fat ass. Verbatim. And he played into it, played into it because it was true. Sebastian knew entirely that he and Mercedes didn't belong together, that people would laugh at them side-by-side. He had medals attached to his name, and for a girl he would not risk that, but Mercedes, he would. He tried. She made him feel guilty for months, while now, in his mind, she sat in her hypocrisy, knowing that she, too, was embarrassed of the love she felt. Unsettled by the lies and negative character development, Sebastian could not bring himself to further attempt a relationship with Mercedes. It was beyond repair.

"Tell me we can still be friends,' Mercedes asked finally.

"I don't think that's a good idea…"

"Sebastian, please,' she pleaded. "You were my best friend, I can't lose you."

Sighing again, Sebastian begot, "We can try. But I'm going to need some time, I need to be without you for a while."

Nodding into the phone, Mercedes wiped away succeeding tears. "I understand, I just don't want you thinking I planned this. I wanted to go Sebastian, I never thought I could stand you up like this… I love you so much, but I'm so stupid, and immature, silly… I don't know why I even thought a relationship was a smart idea. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"I know,' Sebastian replied, officially swallowing his anger. The wound was still raw, her voice specks of salt, but it could heal. It started already. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay."

He ended the call quickly, placing the phone back on the receiver. Sebastian draped his heavy hands across his face, letting out a heavy breath of air. Despite his best wishes, he cried difficultly, until the sadness merged away into what was perhaps a realm of disconnect, from which he faded into sleep, his room's light still on.

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 **If you like these, you might just like my other Glee stories. Check them out! - Anyway, remember to read, review, favorite, and follow.**

 **P.S. - This chapter really hurt me to write. He's really hurt by Mercedes's actions, _my son._**


	15. together

**chapter fifteen. together: mercedes and sebastian meet in high school and bid to stay together no matter the cost**

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I've been away for two years. Two entire years, but that's what happens when you promise to marry your highschool sweetheart. When you plan and plan together, when you compromise together, but your ambitions outshine each other's. We ended up at a college neither of us much wanted to go to, but it offered the majors we were interested in, it kept us close together. Together. Graduation came quicker than we expected it to, we married to solidify our bond: marriage was the tie. If we were married we could get through anything, that's what I had been taught growing up. I could be a thousand miles away and my husband would love me the more: literally, a thousand miles away.

The honeymoon was sweet, he took his time, we conversed over a cherry on the first night and woke to waves crashing against the shore. I did my best to etch this memory into my mind, to remember his shirtless body watching the waves, completely oblivious to me watching him. To this day, I wonder if he was as tainted by thoughts of the future as I. We hardly smiled that week, now that I remember. It was only a precursor. The hotel staff wished us a merry marriage as we left the building, we wished ourselves a happy marriage. I think we both expected each other to give at any time, the entire relationship we'd expected someone to give. Someone to decide that love trumped passion, that the other would lay down their life to remain close. I, however, knew he would never do it for me. He thought less of myself, however. My husband was unwilling to lay down certain aspects of life, certain comforts. I'm under the impression that I would die for him, I'd go as far to give my last breath to the man I stood at the altar with, but I couldn't conform to a life of starched clothing, political tirades, death threats, debates on the impending trend of national socialism, arguments relating to fracking in local neighborhoods, living life in the public's eye: the senator's wife. With as much fervor as he has, I might one day be the president's wife. I couldn't live with myself.

On the day I left, there weren't any tears. The first time I'm only leaving for a week, we promise to text and call as often as possible. When I come back, he tells me I look different. I'm glad he doesn't think I'm acting different: I feel different. Empowered, even. Our home is small and the walls close in on me, when we make love all I can think about is getting out of that home. I'll request another transfer in the morning; he kisses my lips lightly, he does that when he can tell I'm not focused. 'I love you,' I remind myself.

"I love you,' I say in the darkness. I'd love him even more if he wasn't so far away.

We get in a fight the next day. I didn't expect him to be so upset, we both value our alone time. We talked everyday when I was gone, talked even more than we do when we're together. He says something about 'not being together enough'. Together. I'm touched, I'm hurting. He's hurting too, but his entire life he's been told to mask hurt with anger. He's yelling, telling me that I'm staying with him. I can't leave, not so soon. He shows his hurt, presses towards me, his cheeks are furious. I love him.

Not enough, however.

I left for two months that time, still no tears at the airport. Instead, we hold each other for a long time, he kisses my forehead when my flight is called and we promise we'll call. This time I end up in India, fully immersed in the culture. I ride an elephant, climb a mountain, forget my life, forget my husband, forget my phone. By the time I realize I haven't spoken to my husband in over three weeks, it's dawned on me that I haven't even seen my phone. What must he think? I'd never known his number by heart, I have to get it from the company I travel with. His voice is worrisome when he picks up, but he is quickly soothed.

"Hey, baby,' I whisper, looking towards a few small children kicking around a soccer ball. I wonder if he is angered by my nonchalance. "I don't have my phone… it slipped my mind."

"Yeah,' he chuckled. He's happy to hear from me. "I'm holding it right now." I raise a hand to my forehead before sighing, before laughing. He laughs along with me, I'm reminded why I gave him my vow. He doesn't yell or get upset; he doesn't realize that I'm able to call him as frequently as I like. That his phone number wasn't hidden to me. I don't mention this to him.

"For someone who says they love me, you treat me like you hate me,' he musters while flipping through prospective election flyers. I came home early to help him with his campaign, he said he needs his wife on his arm lest people become suspicious. I understand that, I do. We come to a compromise, I'll work for six months and stay home six months. Two years ago, when I told him this plan, it seemed suitable. It worked for us, we got out of the house a lot, we traveled. I was happy because I was with him, and I was happy when I was without him. I'm not sure how he handled himself when I was not near him, but by his reactions at my departure, I imagine not well. I riddle myself selfish occasionally, but I remember he chose me. He knew this would be our life and we settled on the plan. We're self-motivated creatures.

He was, however, doing quite well for himself. Such a young man, already running for state senator. Polls predicted he'd win. I'm very proud of him, I give him a few surprises that he could never receive over the phone. He begs me to never leave again. "Come with me,' I say, and he laughs at the irony of the situation. Pulling my hair away from my face, I raise my eyebrows. I'm serious. Unmoved, he claims his life is too good. We'll be what we want to be soon, he'll give me everything I need. I'm unmoved.

He's just won his election when my transfer for two years comes in, he's saddened, angry, but he's also drunk when I tell him, so I'm mostly ignored. There's a lot of frustration when he sees me packing my bags the next morning. I swear I almost hear 'di-' come from his lips. Instead he helps me get ready. At the airport we sit in utter defeat. 'We do the things that kill us to stay alive,' he says eventually, rubbing a hand across his neck. I frown, a few constituents pass us and ask for his autograph. His autograph? I fear for what I'll miss.

Two years is a long time in a foreign land. My hair grows, I'm with my people, I don't speak their language, but I know I'm from their soil. When I look at them I feel like I've betrayed my lifeline: I love these people, I love their nature. I am returning to clay, drying out each time I get a text reading, 'Why aren't you picking up?'

I build a house, I build a room, I build a bed, I wove the covers, I picked the cotton, I planted the root, I bought the seed. I go from start to finish in the course of two years, I become new. When I call him, we have two completely different mindsets. I am unconcerned with local flooding causing an inch of water damage, I have witnessed floods drowning entire cities, I've witnessed deity worship, crying to the heavens for a drop of rain. He doesn't understand my distaste, but he donates to the cause to domineer me. I married this man.

An elderly woman in a village describes the importance of man and wife. She insists that a woman is put on earth for a man, that for her entire life she is serving another man's purpose. Us 'enlightened' Americans giggle, she turns a cold shoulder to us. She asks us what religion we are apart of, she begins to talk about how we all serve a man-god. We scoff again, our group is full of volunteers and missionaries, no one is amused.

"We are born and born again, our duty is to each other. Without a husband, your egg rots, without a wife, your seed withers. We belong to each other, no one should be alone. Spill into another, and see what they do for you. Your wishes become theirs, there is no love in loneliness. Nothing poetic, life is partnership. Togetherness. Honor your husband, he will be the root of all good things in your life."

I am stunned in this culture's sexism, their lack of female independence, but my roommate calls her boyfriend the moment we return home. She is quickly in tears and leaving our trip early. The rest of us women look on her pathetically, none making the next move. I miss him.

My two year trip doesn't have an exact end date, I'll either get home two weeks early or two weeks late. Or somewhere in-between that time, he doesn't know the exact date. He warns me to call him so that he can pick me up after my flight, but I'd rather surprise him. I've missed the comfort of knowing where I'm going to lay my head down at night. I have that with him. I get a taxi home, the house is a mess. It looks like a bachelor pad, I'm sure that's what he's felt like for the past two years however. I'm sick with myself, I clean around the house. I don't want to throw anything away, but I fold clothes up, I wash certain things. I do my best to organize things into piles, all until I hear a nervous key at the door, I'm greeted by his warm face immediately. His expression is unreadable, I'll mark it as surprise.

"Mercedes,' he begins, opening his arms wide. I creep over towards him, opening my arms wider and grasping tightly around his shoulders. I've missed every inch of him, I'm tempted to begin kissing his neck, before noting shaking. He's crying.

"Sebastian?' I asked empathetically, he cups his hands around my cheeks and frowns. I've only seen this look two or three times before, his eyes are red. This is the face he gives when he can't find the right words, when he's broken. I know his words before he can place them, I relax my face.

He continues to rub my cheeks, I nod, I understand, but he has to say it. "I-,' he shakes his head. "I cheated on you,' he scrunches his face, and turns away after the words leave his lips. Nodding still, I place my hand atop one of his. He hasn't done anything I didn't expect him to do. Two years?

"It's okay, Sebastian. You didn't do anything out of character. I was selfish,' he looks back at me. "I love you. I don't need to know anything else, I don't need to know who. Affection can be a fun game when you're lonely.

"I'm sorry. My first and only duty should have been being a wife to you. I'm sorry."

Here he loses it. He's on his knees, his arms are wrapped around my waist. He's sobbing, but he knows I love him. I guess that's the relief. We're together and he knows I love him, and my heart is broken, but we're equal.

We're still too distant to touch each other that night, instead we eat cold Chinese food around our cluttered table. He's too fragile to suggest getting anything else, he stutters over his words, he's torn apart, and I'm just apologetic. I feel unforgivable, and I know he feels the same. We hate ourselves, and we love each other. While pushing around the final noodles, I think about a life lost. I've lost a part of myself to keep all that matters to me, I'm more than upset. He was proven right, in the long run. I'd be the one to bear his cross. He's always won.

In a low, emotional voice, he finally says, "I've been thinking about only serving one term."


	16. what's there in a name

**chapter sixteen. what's there in a name: mercedes is the daughter of a popular senator and sebastian is a lawyer, despite their affiliation, mercedes opposes her father's legislation and her disobedience ruins outside relationships, past and present. the couple have chemistry more than anyone else, but they are not together, and they never will, because they always fall in love with each other at different times. dystopian fiction**

* * *

Scribbling in a well-used notebook, about a well-discussed topic, Mercedes allowed her consciousness to drift from the judicious and pragmatic talk flooding her dining room, her own home foreign to her during the present dinner. The city outside her doors was well beyond her own control, but within the brick and panel house, she imagined that her ideas ruled supreme. The conflicting principles occasionally shared by her mother were always met with mutual understanding and general acceptance, her father was a quiet man, a moveable and convincible force who would begin a war if only to avoid one. Confrontation with him was evitable, and as far as Mercedes's siblings, they were there and gone too quickly for any substantial information to be passed between. It wasn't until varying forces made their presence in the home that Mercedes felt unsafe behind her own doors, a deeper crevice into the abode her sanctuary. Unsettling comments convinced the young woman to excuse herself from the guests' occupation, Mercedes drifted from the dining hall to the quiet balcony overlooking the nearby lake.

She had only been writing for a few minutes before the door to the balcony was open and shut loudly, and though her back was turned to the entrance, she knew the man.

"I grow tired of these society dinners,' Sebastian dragged out. "I came to see you."

"Pity,' Mercedes began, looking over her shoulder onto the shadowed gentleman. Dark hair that had grown past its usual length, pushed behind his ears, a pair of thin framed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. A black sweater and blue jeans completed the 'off duty lawyer' look for Sebastian, a bright patterned jacket tying the outfit together stood on a coat hanger in the home's lobby. Despite his attractiveness, the way his teeth grazed his bottom lip before he spoke, the tightness in the sweater around his chest, the string of hair that floated mischievously onto his forehead, Mercedes could resist. Something in his smirk, detachment in his words, malevolence in his gait, and deceitfulness in his gaze pushed the young woman further and further away from the young man. "I hate for you to have wasted your time."

He shook his head and drifted slowly to his unmotivated partner, sitting lousily next to her on the low outside couch. Mercedes turned closer to face him, Sebastian leaning back onto his forearms. The backless seat allowed Mercedes a quick exit from the conversation, Sebastian little time to retrieve her if she drifted to one of the balcony's side doors. The spacious area simulated a roofless sunroom, a central double door conjoined the patio-like balcony, two single doors on the right and left allowed less romantic entrance and exit. A rug and a number of small tables littered the area, while a grand, marble railing prohibited the accidental fall from Eden. In the center of the balcony was a low, patterned seat with arms for lounging, a retrieve for Mercedes, the spot where most of her inspiration met dainty notebooks. Her feet touched the ground facing the blue pond, Sebastian faced the Hellenic door, but they looked at each other.

"My feelings for you haven't changed,' his fingers trailed her own. "I still care for you."

Mercedes flushed red under the moon's light, her long dark hair falling long past her parted mouth and tilted chin. _How do you want me?_ A long, black dress covered most of her body, a red scarf (matching her cheeks) tied loosely around her neck swooped past the strings from her gray, fleece jacket that she pulled the sleeves on heavily. Gazing between his hazel eyes, Mercedes stood finally, running a hand against the balcony before approaching one of the meager doors. "You don't care about me, Sebastian. You care about my father's influence. And your own ambition."

Her back to the man, Mercedes could not see how swiftly he bounded from his relaxation, she only felt the gravity of his hands tight around her wrist, pinned on her side as he cornered her. Letting go once his intention was succeeded, his hands remained at her sides, his face turned in a snarl. "You know me?"

Mercedes scoffed, not bothering to writhe from underneath the man or his showmanship. She dared look him in his hollow eyes, his countenance drooping thereafter and his gaze making quick acquaintance with the ground.

"I know where you were today, the riot. I could have you arrested, do you know that?"

"I would have it so, I would do it again."

Bringing a shaking hand to his jaw, Sebastian ran his outspread palm along his face before looking into the woman's eyes smugly. He prayed momentarily that no one would walk past the windowed doors, not that he feared anyone in the home would question him with damaging authority. "Of course, of course… You feel so strongly for my injustices, yet you feel nothing for me."

"Anymore,' Mercedes pushed out curiously, pushing the man closer to a confession. She hadn't heard the lash of a kind word out of the young man in years, she took the opportunity heavily. He flattered to remind her often that his feelings remained, though she never offered much room for explanation nor did he attempt to elaborate on what feelings he possessed.

Sebastian laughed shortly, and Mercedes quickly realized that he would remain unforthcoming, and with her unwillingness to grovel or beg for a friendly touch, they would remain unmoved. Shifting past his lifted arm, Mercedes gathered her composure and made her way to the other door.

"I think you should go."

"You're right,' Sebastian agreed smugly. "I will, undoubtedly, be seeing you soon."


	17. kiss

**chapter seventeen. kiss: sebastian and mercedes share their first kiss**

* * *

"I know you like me,' Sebastian convinced, laying a hand out in emphasis and looking at Mercedes with a tilted head and a problematic smirk. He started to laugh along with the girl who, clearly, found his thesis comical. She was momentarily doubled over in giggles, holding a hand over her stomach, and using the other to slap the table repeatedly in emphasis. Sebastian didn't find his train of speech to be as funny as she did, and his laughter ceased much earlier than hers.

Breathing out heavily, Mercedes took a second-take at the young man and began laughing once more. Her cheeks reddened, and her face took immaculate heat, but she calmed quickly and finally spoke. "Just where do you get that assumption?"

His pride minimally shot, Sebastian slouched in his seat, crossed his arms over his chest and put his legs on the shared table. "Because why wouldn't you?"

"Need I list the reasons, Smythe, because I can,' Mercedes retorted quickly, leaning over the table on her elbows with a tight face, expressing her inner surprise and, probably, disgust.

"Seeing as though those reasons often end in you referring to me as a 'scrawny, white boy' or a quip about me 'walking like I've got a candy cane up my ass,' I'm going to have to pass. I think those are just reasons you think you shouldn't like me, not that I think I walk weird but… the first one is, at least."

Mercedes shook her head, "I'm not racist, Sebastian. If I liked you, I'd like you. You being white or scrawny or walking like you've got something up your butt, which you do, would have nothing to do with it. You're just not my type,' she shrugged, then mirroring Sebastian's position. "Sorry."

"Then what is?' Sebastian asked, sitting up finally and placing his hands on the table. "Tall? Good looking? Charming? Kind? How about mysterious? Smart? Giving? Caring? Strong? You can't say any of those qualities, plus some, because I've given them all to you in an abundance."

Rolling her eyes, Mercedes bit her jaw before saying "why do you care if I like you so much? Isn't there some blonde waiting for you to notice her or something? What does it matter if I, of all people, have a crush on you?"

"Because I want you, Mercedes,' he shrugged. Her eyebrows raised as she began to shake his words off and excuse herself. "No, stop,' Sebastian began, encouraging her to meet his eyes. "If you act like you don't know, then you're choosing to lie to me. The 'diva-act' is cute, it's hot, but I see through it. I know you're insecure, I know you're holding out on the little bit of popularity you've got going for you, but it would hurt me to see you let either of those things keep you from being happy. Honestly happy.

"I get nothing but excuses from you, I'm tired of it. I just have to wonder, are you tired of it? I can play hard-to-get, but it's not a game with you. You're impossible, I don't… know why. I genuinely care for you, I'm feeling things that I've never felt. I'm actually considering, and I shudder as I say this, monogamy, and you treat me like a joke. It's back and forth with you, you call me when you need a pick-me-up, and I'd be fine with that if I only wanted you sporadically. I like you, a lot, but I need to hear it. And any problems you have, we can work on them together, but if you truly think of me as just a friend or if you want to keep lying to yourself, then maybe I'm not the person for the job. But I do need to know."

"And you've got it figured out?"

Sebastian frowned, expecting a lashing from Mercedes, but stayed silent until she spoke again. A series of seconds passed between the two, both waiting for the other to finish, both thinking of endless possibilities, though Mercedes answered first.

"Maybe you're right,' she shrugged. "Maybe I'm insecure and maybe I'm hanging onto being popular, but you don't get to try to solve me. I'm not a riddle, and I'm definitely not a notch on your belt. Do you know your reputation? Do you know why I try to make sure no one sees us together?"

"I can imagine,' Sebastian replied, gliding his thumb across his jaw.

"So why do you think I'd open up myself to the guy with the most notorious history at school? You're fun, you're cool, you're good looking. But you're bad news, and this entire time I've figured you were just trying to sleep with me, and if this is just another ploy, then you've really hit a new low."

"I-,' Sebastian began, leaning back in his chair. Speechless, for once, he tilted his head towards the ceiling. Running his fingers through his hair, he spoke after a few seconds. "What can I say? I don't know what I can do to prove myself, Mercedes. What do you want me to say? That I'm sorry for being a bad guy? That I'm sorry for having wants and fulfilling them? That I'm sorry for seeing your talent, your humor, your kindness and wanting to get to know you better? I've done a lot of stuff, trust me,' he chuckled. "But I never lie. I may euphemize, and I may deceive, but everything I said to you was true. I can do my best to prove it to you over time, but I won't waste yours or mine if… you don't want me to."

"Don't say it like that."

"Say it like what? Say it like how it is? Would you like me to lie?' Sebastian asked, raising his eyebrows. "Because, for you, I will."

"Sebastian,' Mercedes continued abruptly, cutting the boy off. She hesitated before saying "I do like you. But it scares me."

"I know. There are things about it that scare me too, but,' he reached across the table for Mercedes's hand. "Would I not be the best person to be frightened with?"

Smiling with the hint of a chuckle, Mercedes turned away, blushing. "I need to think some."

Raising his hands in surrender, Sebastian nodded. "You can think about it all you want,' he responded, standing up and taking his keys from the table. "Are you ready to go home?"

"I guess so, we obviously didn't do much studying,' Mercedes giggled, wiping her eyes and standing up. The conference door was shut, and the library wasn't closing for hours, but she needed fresh air and, preferably, privacy. She pushed her seat back underneath the table and watched Sebastian do the same before he walked around the table with wide arms.

"Come on, we've got to hug, it's really… depressing in here."

Frowning, Mercedes tried to maneuver her way around the tall boy, but ended up locked in his long arms. Sighing, she wrapped her arms around his waist, a face full of cotton and light cologne. Pulling away, she looked at the boy who was smiling at her, not with his trademark smirk, but a genuine smile.

"Would you do me a favor?' he asked, looking away from her momentarily.

"What?" Mercedes asked, her hands linking with his as she continued to back away.

"Will you kiss me?"

Mercedes laughed and shook her head, "No."

"It would mean a lot to me,' Sebastian replied.

Sighing, Mercedes let go of Sebastian completely and bit her lip. "You've kissed other girls before."

Landing his hands in his pockets, he replied "I've never asked to kiss another girl before."

"I don't know,' Mercedes replied after giving it some thought. She motioned for Sebastian to get his keys off the table and began to walk out the room. She heard a heavy sigh behind her, but no complaints as the two filed out of the library and into Sebastian's car. Mercedes didn't have her license yet and took rides from Sebastian as often as possible, as long as he was willing. She couldn't pinpoint exactly when she would have determined the two as friends or even as acquaintances; she remembered an assembly closer to the beginning of the year when she had lost her friends in the bustle and ended up seated next to him for over an hour on the dilapidated bleachers. He was recognizable, one of the most popular boys in the grade, infamous for his promiscuity and wealth. Along with that, she recognized him as a boy she had obtained a vivid crush for in the second grade. Shying away and hoping to avoid him, Mercedes was pained when he turned his attention toward her a quarter through the program.

"You're the girl who gave me the love letter on Valentine's Day in third grade, right?"

"Oh, God,' Mercedes grimaced and shrunk into her spot. Sebastian began to laugh to himself before turning his body a bit to shield the conversation from their neighbor's ears.

"I knew it was you, you've still got those cheeks. I see the Minnie Mouse hairstyle is out the door, lucky for you. I still have that card, you know?"

"It was second grade, by the way, Sebastian."

"Well, Mercedes,' Sebastian responded, since it was now clear she remembered his name or at least had an idea of who he was. "Sorry for my poor memory, I know that was an important time for you. Being in love with me and all."

Mercedes laughed out loud, causing a few students to turn around, but she laughed harder when Sebastian kicked the back of one of their heads and told them to turn around. "I wasn't in love. I just thought you were cute. Big difference."

"Yeah,' he cocked his mouth. "Because those are two completely different things,' Sebastian replied sarcastically with a wink. From then on, the two were nearly inseparable. They hung out all the time after school, spoke occasionally in the hallway, had lunch together a few times. It wasn't until a few months into the school year that Sebastian realized that Mercedes was avoiding being seen with him, pushing him away any times her friends came near and avoiding going anywhere that she assumed she might run into someone from school. He hadn't gone out of his way to include her in any of his friend groups, but he hadn't worked as vehemently as she did to do the opposite. At first it was a dodge, but then it turned into subtle confusion. He knew he was popular, and he knew that plenty of girls fished for the opportunity to be in his presence, but whenever Mercedes saw Sebastian in public, she fled. It took time for him to realize, but it came sooner than later. The school was split into different sects, and there was a food chain in each. Though Sebastian was at the top of his, there were other people who were just as, if not more, popular than he was to other people. Mercedes was popular with her friends, the friends who probably laughed at colored khakis, boat shoes, and people raised with silver spoons in their mouths. In retrospect, he'd laugh too.

It didn't hurt at first, in fact, it didn't hurt at all. They still talked every day, hung out outside of school, called each other at home, did things that friends did, just alone. He wasn't sure what he wanted from admitting his feelings to her, Sebastian could admit he had done it primarily for himself. It was a weight lifted off his shoulder. He knew he wouldn't ask her to be his girlfriend or try to introduce her to his friends, he was okay with their relationship being a secret, in fact that what was what he wanted. His pride wanted her to jump at the opportunity to be with him. When she stood nearly unwaived by his confession, it was a dodge, but he couldn't say he wouldn't have done the same thing in her position. Popularity was everything and dating Mercedes had too much of a risk for both of them. Silent devotion felt like enough at the time, but he was meagerly disappointed that she wasn't as strong as he had hoped her to be or as in love as he had anticipated.

The car ride passed with small talk and conversation about school, colleges, football games and everything else neither of them were interested in. Mercedes played with her thumbs for a majority of the car ride, and when Sebastian motioned for her to hold his hand, she declined. "I barely trust you with two hands on the wheel, sweetheart."

The two sat in her driveway silently for a few minutes before Mercedes turned to him with big eyes. "If we're going to do this, it stays between us."

"I got it,' Sebastian said, staring at the wheel and nodding.

Mercedes cupped his cheek and kissed him on the lips just as he turned his head. He flushed red underneath her touch, but didn't have the chance to say anything as Mercedes rushed out of the car with a promise to call him later as she shut the door. Watching her bound up the porch stairs, Sebastian pulled out once she entered the house, his cheeks still red and his mind racing. There was nothing more he hated than hiding, keeping secrets, but he could foresee the bullshit he'd get for just being friends with her, let alone calling her his girlfriend. Sighing, he pressed his jaw into his hand, but smiled after a few seconds. No matter how gritty, he always got what he wanted, Mercedes being no exception.

In truth, this wasn't how he wanted her, but she had become the denominator of his thoughts over the past few months, and he had fought hard to solve the equation.


	18. how my light is spent

**chapter eighteen. how my light is spent: it takes a major injury for sebastian to realize his love for mercedes**

* * *

Handsome, young, and gone too soon. That's what Sebastian assumed would be said at his funeral, he already saw his mother weeping over his casket, his father and sister standing behind her stoically. Abigail would write a poem or a story or a novel or an encyclopedia about her sorrow, and his father would go on living. He'd probably even suggest having another son. When Sebastian came back to cognizance, which felt instantaneous on his timeline, he heard a doctor promising that he'd 'make it'. 'Make it' sounded miserable, it sounded like he'd be missing something or living as half a man, and seeing as though one of the last things he recalled was an explosion and screaming, his own screaming, he wouldn't be surprised if when his eyes were unfolded they'd reveal an amputated limb. Running his thumb over his hand, he felt the indention of cuts from flying shrapnel. Remaining silent, Sebastian wished away the throbbing pain behind his eyes and licked his bruised lips. He still felt the cold presence of someone in the room, he turned his head over to where he thought they were.

"When can I get these bandages taken off? I'd like to see the damage."

The world came down to shapes and finger tips and hoping conversation would fill the void that supplication couldn't. Maybe she'd read his mind when she suggested moving somewhere quieter, she'd probably known that he couldn't bear to hear the world's apologies and best wishes all day for every day. They chose a cottage near the mountains, somewhere secluded and quiet, somewhere safe with walking distance to a nearby town. They rarely received visitors, but occasionally a few of Sebastian's comrades passed through the scenic route, sat over a cup of tea, and talked about good, old times. They'd pat him on the back, tell him he didn't deserve what he'd gotten, and continue their life, thanking God that they hadn't been so unlucky. Aside from his rank as Ohio's Most Eligible Bachelor for many years and a trust fund that never emptied, Sebastian received the same stipend from the U.S. Military every month, a thin check mailed from a few states below, a sad reminder of the love received by the skeletons left by war. He didn't know if she cashed them or not, not that he cared, not that they needed it, not that she needed the part-time job at the library either, but he knew she needed an escape from the four walls and from his own misery.

Propped against the bed frame, Sebastian felt the heat of the rising sun trickling over his body, the window left open and a mild breeze pushing through the frame. He turned his head towards her when he felt her yawn against him, her thick hair pressed into his skin, her face on his chest, her hand entangled in him, one of his arms wrapped around her loosely, their blanket placidly coating them. They sat in silence for a time, as they usually did. After a few months in the cottage, they'd surpassed talking, as it was all they could do. There was something holy in their silence and in their touching; after a time, the temperature in the room began to drop.

"It looks like rain,' she said too late, the patter of raindrops beginning to sprinkle on the roof.

Sebastian sighed, knowing the room was coated in darkness again, he imagined what the floor looked like. It was wood, that he could feel. A dark brown, that she had told him. The curtains were a muted red, the bed spread was beige with green, brown, and red stripes at the bottom. The forest outside was almost perfectly green and if she woke up early enough, she could see a few deer picking at the berries near the door. Soil tracked into the house, that Sebastian could feel. It ruined the rug in the living room, that he was told. Her hair was down to her breast now, that he could feel. It was getting unmanageable, that's what he was told. Her nose scrunched when she laughed, he knew that. She didn't laugh much anymore, he heard that. She hated her laugh, her smile, her nose, she said that. He missed her laugh, smile, and nose. He felt that.

"I wish I could see you,' he sighed.

He could admit that he hadn't known her very well when he'd wed her. Even on their wedding night, when he'd known her the most, he had still spent his honeymoon with a stranger. He couldn't have known her, not when his sight was increasing and decreasing his affection or his friends and family were flooding him with their own donations of thought. He couldn't have known her when his opinion of her was completely crafted by what he saw and what she presented, he couldn't have met her soul, and he'd returned home in terror. He couldn't expect a stranger to care for him, he couldn't expect her to stay. He mistook his discharge papers as divorce papers, in near shambles when a nurse told him to 'sign here'. She was there when he got home, he could feel the tears trickling down her cheeks, and they held each other for as long as he could remember. He ran his fingers across her hair, pressed his head on her forehead and admired every texture he had been looking too fast to appreciate. It took his hands time to learn every inch of her and his heart longer to truly fall in love. It was all slower than he had ever been accustomed to, much quieter. He regretted that the lesson had to be so toughly taught.

She picked out his clothing, usually giving him options, a brief summary with descriptions on color and texture. Passively, he let her choose his attire for the night. He hated leaving the cottage in its entirety, but she'd insisted a debutante ball where his father would be honored at would be a good opportunity to catch up with old friends and prove that despite the injury, he'd not become a recluse. Sebastian took deep breaths as she hovered over him, first trimming and styling his hair, then shaving his face, all things that he did with ease, even nonchalance, prior. She smelled like something sweet, like a beach he'd rather be on or a sunset he'd rather feel, a glimpse of something that he wished he'd had before.

"Do you remember me?' someone asked boldly, their voice unfamiliar. Sebastian shook his head, smiling.

"I don't,' he never did. He didn't realize how many faces he could remember and how many voices he could forget. They went on to say they were his cousin, they hadn't seen him since he was just a boy. He hadn't seen himself since then either. Then they'd get around to her.

 _"Mercedes, you look lovely."_

 _"Mercedes, you are stunning."_

 _"Mercedes, you're flawless. You look like a daydream. I haven't seen you in years, why don't you two ever come to visit. You truly– you've amazed me, honey. I barely recognized you, have you lost weight? You didn't need to, you look great either way. And your hair! I cannot stop gushing about you, you're out a movie. What's in that mountain air? I have some nieces who went hiking this weekend, and when they came back their skin was clear and everything. It must be the air, don't you agree? I've been planning a getaway. Where you recommend? Do you two travel? Maybe not, but where would you go? If you could?"_

He sighed, touched the small of her back and wished he was back home. According to his sister, he still had discoloration around his eyes, and, according to his hands, scars that would always be a reminder of his injury. His father patted him on his shoulder, his mother kissed him on the cheek, and they agreed that it was good to see him out of the house. He could hear Mercedes droning to their mutual friends and some strangers during the night, he ran his finger around the rim of his wine glass, a bitterness in his throat from either indignation or moscato.

They stood together, waiting for the valet, alone in front of the dark hotel. She wrapped her arms around his waist and placed her head on his back.

"I wish I could see you now,' Sebastian whispered, holding her hand against his stomach.

"You're the only one who does."

 _ **who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state Is kingly**_


End file.
